In This Kiss



In our headphones, there’s electronic music from the 80’s, and all around us, we’re surrounded by the womb of night. There are flooded streets and roads as rivers and you with your face buried deep into your coat and scarf. Your hood is up, but the wind keeps blowing it down, much to your annoyance. To my annoyance, every time I try rolling a cigarette it descends into farce causing me to look up at the sky cursing no one in particular. There’s no destination we have in mind. We’re not going anywhere or coming back. We’re stuck in this moment, but it’s okay because we have each other and that’s all there is to it. Cast adrift and told we don’t belong, we could’ve crumbled, but derision made us stronger, and now their words and opinions mean less than nothing. Every so often, I pull you close and kiss your wet lips. Hungry and slightly deranged, I bite and claw and there is nothing but our lust. I would hold you, but the rain would find a way under my cuffs and then it would make my underclothes all damp, and this won’t do at all. So instead, we kiss with our hands firmly stuffed into our pockets. I give you my saliva, and although my eyes are closed, I know you’re smiling. I can feel it in the way the muscles of your face contract against mine, and it’s there in that ever so slight intake of breath as I glide my tongue over yours and then against your teeth. I’ve no idea where we are. It could be my hometown or near where I went to Uni. Could even be further afield. Your hometown, perhaps? Yeah, I guess. That mausoleum we once walked to. The one with the hamsters and swans? It was raining that time, too. Breathing over your face, I open my eyes but can’t see your features because of the mist escaping from our mouths. Leaning in and kissing you on the nose, I speak some words only you would know, and then slowly we resume our endless journey.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

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