Daylight trips as we cut through the streets drunk and oblivious to pretty much everything except for the beat of our hearts. Sounds come and go but in this perpetual moment, we have no use for them. You with that body. You who evaporates as I blink away the rain only to return with your hand in mine as we move through the courtyard that houses a statue of some queen or other. Through the market stalls and across the parking lots we attempt to dodge the liquid bullets that fall harder and harder until each one is a bomb upon our skin. You who darts between stationary cars like a cat. You who skips from kerb to kerb clutching your can of beer as if it were a crucifix. Through boredom, we ignite that which displeases us and laugh as the world goes up in flames and no amount of hangovers will ever persuade us to leave behind our pyromaniac ways. As our feet hit the asphalt and then the dried grass of endless playing fields, we travel to a place that’s far from those that can’t seem to fathom the nature of our ways. In the presence of so many trees, we run to an area hidden from view and take off our clothes. My belly is bigger than it ought to be, and there’s cellulite on your thighs that wasn’t there this time last year, not that it matters, of course. On all fours and slithering like snakes, we merge to a chorus of birdsong and thunder as the animals watch in awe. What we do is what we are, and yet there’s something about our union that grips their wild hearts and refuses to let go. When night time creeps soon after, we spoon beneath heavy clouds on a blanket of leaves and speak in hushed tones. Off in the distance shine the lights of humanity, but we have no need for them. In every town and city up and down the land, there are those that call out our names, but we were done with the crowd years ago.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.co.uk

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.com

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