Lock your fingers in mine, and sniff me. Sniff me the way you sniff the pages of an old book. Desire my warped mind and seek me out even though there’s nothing much to it save for dust and the remnants of dead stars and the memories of old TV shows I used to watch around my grandparent’s house when I was a kid during the school holidays. Follow me to their dining room and eat the same dish of chips and sausages rounded off with Arctic roll and jelly. Sit with me and smile as the budgie in the cage in the corner of the room squawks and pecks at his reflection in a little mirror. These moments are the ones I retreat to in need of safety. They offer my fragile shell some sense of warmth when this adult world does its best to break me down. If the weather’s good, we can go outside and sit in the garden. Maybe, if my grandad’s willing, he will open up the shed and show us the spiders that lurk there, and even though I’ll be anxious, the rush it will give will make me wrap my arms around you while kissing your neck. Nan’s in the kitchen tidying up. She waves at us and shakes her head at grandad as he climbs over old boxes and broken furniture attempting to squash a juicy spider that’s just out of reach. If he falls, she’ll come marching out and give him an earful. He doesn’t, but for a second or so it’s touch and go. As he locks the shed up and heads inside to read while she sits down to watch Neighbours, we sit under a tree at the back of the garden. It’s just gone five-thirty, and the month is July. Not sure what the year is, but with you by my side it doesn’t matter. There are so many questions. So many loose ends, and death stalks continuously, and yet the only thing that matters is that we’re together. Picking a few daises from the grass, I place them in your hair. You smile and touch my face, and in that one moment, what we have is exactly how it needs to be. We are travellers. We are lovers. We are dreamers who live inside the dream. I’m scared that when I close my eyes you’ll be gone. That you’ll have left me all alone again. So I keep them open as long as possible and tell you to do the same until the sun falls from the sky and we dissolve along with everything else.

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on

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