A stolen night in a hotel
A stolen night in a hotel, followed by a sleeping bag in the kitchen and divided worlds on faceless heads.
A fleece skirt of best friends and a present thrown through the door.
Nine toes and a gay brother, my dad arriving at a 13 dawn opened doors. Beers in hands and rolling out a day of caves and handstands in the rain.
Kisses at bustops followed by punchy sex in bars,squares, sloppers and tight lycra leg warmers.
One worm, a bag of nuts and a bed on a sea of rock.
Stains on school skirts, hockey sticks and a sweaty musical treat leads me to driving drunk songs through cattle grid gates.
Lives divided and re-kindled to repeat the same situations, of flashing lights, solo walks and shirts knotted on his breast dad’s funeral.
Muffins and Barn sugared cookies.
A circle split with icicles. Fall through a tree and hit the cafe to ignore your phone and arrive home too late.
A stolen night in a hotel, a passed out dog with a head full of water and a gas man over the fence.
Two silent worlds holding each other in a dream of obsessive love. The shelter of my light, the saviour of smoke. Driving to the swell of faces pushed into sweaty shoulders and holidays in frozen swing pools.
An athlete, a bar, a mess, the end at the start of a new city made of concrete attics. A DJ who thought he was cool until I saw him with long hair and a sore.
Eclipse of the same story, three boys and one name still the same. To the illusion of love, forgetting, irreplaceably erasing something that should never have ended. A regret.
An escape to a world of sand and needles, of punching walls, cruise ships with braces stranded in the sand bank and a wife I married in Vegas.
Lunging and joking and a little note on my paint brush. A dear friend eating okra with a grey fish from wok. A memory of a friend and jokes that simply aren’t funny anymore.
Two. Many tears, conversations in smoke filled rooms and a friend next door.
A rock club and a pole dancing bar- two girls and a bump on an island of snow in a sugar-pink house coated shell. To a disappointment and a hope.
A stolen night in a hotel room, that bed time night cap on the fire escape outside your rented window door.
