The light of the sun reflects upon the leaves of the trees. It caresses the blades of grass beneath my feet, kissing each one as they twist and turn in the warm summer wind. The insects on the ground and the birds in the sky celebrate the meaning of life without even knowing. They worship at its altar, as do I. Passing through like the visitor I am, so many scents dance on the tip of my nose, and just like the fox, I close my eyes trying to identify each one. The fox is jumping around up ahead. Darting in and out of the stalks of wheat, he comes back circling my feet before shooting off, barking whenever I slow the pace. Stopping to wipe the sweat from my brow, my right-hand knocks the wallet in the back pocket of my jeans. Taking it out, I remove the photograph of a smiling X. Coming to a halt, I inspect those features of hers as they look up at me even though I’ve memorised them a million times over. My black-eyed angel. My tricky heart of gold. As a gust of wind blows all about me, I hear the trees whisper her name; from the cities to the seas they speak of the strange nature of her beauty like the child of God she is. Lost in thought, I sway in the breeze resembling a blade of grass, caressed in turn by the glow of the sun. Head down with that familiar grin on his face, the sly fox approaches, curious as to the reason behind my most recent lapse. Eyeing up the photo between my fingers, he recognises the smile and screeches. Snapping me out of my daydream, I look down and find him spinning in circles. He spins so fast he ends up falling over. Sheepishly recovering, I get on my knees allowing him to lick my face. Nudging the photo with his nose, I ask him if he knows who she is, but before the question has fully left my lips, he lets out a bark and flies off again. Watching him as he goes, I slip the photo into my wallet and place it back into my pocket. Overhead, two kestrels circle each other like lovers, and to my left, a squirrel snatches its way up a tree before watching me while sat perched on one of its branches. Walking over, I place both hands upon its trunk and close my eyes. Hot beneath my touch, I hear it whispering her name so clearly. Can feel each letter vibrate deep into my bones.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US