The stink of hearts that beat to the wrong beat. The stink of minds that wander to the wrong kinds of shore. Body parts. Bodies. Limbs and fingers and teeth and toes that wriggle and tickle behind eyes that should know better. All things come, and all things go. Doors. So many doors. Days. Years. Decades. And then your mouth and sweet embrace as the tide comes and takes us back out. The message so often changes, and yet the intent remains the same. Mirrors and then no mirrors. Talk about love and then the bubble of childhood wonder to ease the pain of being human. But all things come, and all things go. It won’t be long, and then just like that, everything changes in the simplest of ways. Memories. Understanding. The image of a cat chasing a ball of dust, and then two lovers tearing down the walls without a care for what follows. And those lovers. Those atoms and souls and orbs that circle those lights on the horizon that still shimmer after all these years. How they sing just like they used to. How they shine as if time had no meaning at all. It won’t be long. No, it won’t be at long at all. Like the branches of a tree or the veins in your hand, these things go in all directions. They shoot into the future, and they retreat into the past. All things come, and all things go. Choose a door and walk through it. Pick a day. Pick a smile. Pick a place. The end of a pier it is. Would you smile again for me? Would you dance a little longer? As the wind licks our hungry faces as the sea calls out our names, let’s take a chance on a state of mind. Let’s strip away this skin and leave these guys for dust.

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

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