Night Swimming

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We could go night swimming, yeah? And I could hold you in my arms and together we’d sink beneath the surface, and such a thing would make me feel as natural as I could ever wish. We could be cinnamon lovers skirting the edges of time or arguing lovers outside fast food joints saying words each hope will cut the other to pieces. We could set fire to the world or just sit around eating popcorn and laughing at the shit we see on TV. Maybe we’ll masturbate each other to sleep and dream about those videos on the internet, y’know, the ones that popped our teenage minds and left us unable to do anything other than drink the days away in an effort to be free. How many tears have you cried in the dead of night? How many times have you laughed for no reason driving with your eyes shut tight daring God to strike you down knowing full well he wouldn’t dare? Beneath a streetlight with our backs turned to the road, we share a can of beer and the words that spill from my mouth may not be pretty and they may not be poetic, but they came from being with you. Under my breath, I tell you what a grown man isn’t meant to say, and yeah it leaves me weak and yeah it leaves me broken but if only for a few seconds, I’m almost as beautiful as you. While the rest sleep, we could go night swimming, and as the cool water takes us home, there would be nowhere else we’d rather be. Look at the stars, yeah, look at the stars and write our names with your fingers across the sky. There’s nothing else that matters, and no one to drag us down, so swim with me until we reach a place where there’s music in the air, and the animals roam safe in the knowledge that the hand of man can’t reach them. Swim with me and float in the void as happy as can be until we become stars, so perfect and distant and shiny and beyond, beyond, beyond.

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on Amazon.co.uk

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on Amazon.com

32 replies »

  1. “Beneath a streetlight with our backs turned to the road, we share a can of beer and the words that spill from my mouth may not be pretty and they may not be poetic, but they came from being with you. Under my breath, I tell you what a grown man isn’t meant to say, and yeah it leaves me weak and yeah it leaves me broken but if only for a few seconds, I’m almost as beautiful as you are.”

    …may not be pretty and they may not be poetic, but they came from being with you…

    I’m a right wuss today. I’ve spent some of the day crying over things that ordinarily wouldn’t have made me even lose a step, but then this. Forfucksake!
    <3's and all that other sappy shit that your writing usually reduces me to. xx

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