Author S. K. Nicholas

Years. Months. Weeks. Days. Hours. Minutes. Seconds. With the two of us stood beneath stars and scaffolding, I remember how good it used to feel seeing you smile so unashamedly. With my hands on your hips, young love never felt so good. The passing of unseen cars on roads that would soon be blanketed with snow. Your body ready and willing. Your eyes locked firmly on mine. All the animals, they ran through the urban sprawl just to see us kiss, and when they did, the forest from where they came shivered with music others would never believe. The leaves on every tree knowing your name, they trembled as if some great truth had erupted from deep within the ground. With Orions Belt on your shoulder, we climbed a ladder to the moon until the lights of the city shone dimly beneath. That moment still exists, in the breeze that carries through the cemetery, to the voiceless buildings that watch with envious eyes. It still beats unseen, pumping through my veins like alcohol. The memories of a drunken love affair, resurfacing days after the magic had last made itself known. The strangeness never leaves, it only grows. The silent gardens that know our footsteps so well, yearning for our fateful return. On the outskirts of nowhere with the sound of windchimes signalling fear, there’s something in my chemistry that sets me apart. It takes on different forms. So many visions. So many ways of not being able to express things that stand on the other side of reason. This is how things are with me. Sifting through images. Once lived, twice known. The pieces of an elaborate puzzle, scattered through time and space with only bloodlust and heartache to keep us company.