X’s Room



It’s raining and your lips are red and your breasts are the shape of my hands. By the side of the bed, you spray yourself with Dove deodorant. It gets right up my nose and makes me want you. It makes me stutter as you stand on tiptoes looking out of the window at the passing traffic and flying birds and people that see nothing even though their eyes are open to the world. On the pillow where you rest your head, there are several strands of loose hair. Picking them up, I place each one between the pages of a book. It’s The Fall by Camus, purchased from a thrift store in the summer along with a selection of vinyls despite having no means to play them. If there comes a day when you don’t want me, these strands of hair will help bring you back. If there comes a time when you’re gone, I’ll find a way of making you real again. Sifting through a pile of clothes trying to find something not too dirty to wear, you put on a jumper I bought you. It’s the one with the face of a mouse. Big nose and whiskers. Big ears and beady eyes. As soon as it’s on, I take it off and push you down onto the bed. You complain that we’ll be late. That we’ll miss the bus into town. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Pulling the blanket up until our bodies are covered, I remove the rest of our clothes and tell you of a land where we can be free. A place untouched by man and all of his limitations, where ghosts and animals dance until dawn and the concept of tomorrow is as useless as that of currency and death. In the stillness that follows, there are no words, but we continue to speak. And then we sleep, and when we awake, the sky is dark and there’s silence. A silence that so many will never hear. The lightbulb sways above of our heads but doesn’t shine. The TV sits in the corner but shows no imagery. Rising to collect food, you switch on the heater and draw the curtains before hopping back into bed. Within minutes our bellies are full and we’re content, and then we share a single kiss that stretches the length of a piece of string, and then, and then…

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

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

8 replies »

  1. So beautiful! When you’re in love with someone it’s so easy to get lost in them. I love the poem talking about holing up with your beloved and the two of you becoming the universe. About the sweet lovemaking being all that matters.

    I also understand keeping things from lovers, so if they go you can reconstruct them in your heart. The certain songs, books, feelings, flashes of all these little things, About trying to make them add up to those wonderful times when they were there.

    Your poetry always moves me. I always feel the passion of your stories. You’re an amazing talent and I love being able to read your work.

    • What a kind and thoughtful comment. Thank you ever so much!

      That you enjoy my writing means a great deal to me, and I hope to keep on writing things you look forward to reading.

      I’m also so pleased you appreciate these little things as well. The quiet moments. The sense of oneness that can be achieved by taking a step back from the hustle and bustle of the world. Such moments are so often left behind, but it’s important to savour them, and to keep them alive at all costs.

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