It was a Friday,
I hesitated in the hazy pulse of bodies
As she walked over wearing her Christmas jumper in June
Took my hand and told me
‘You’ve got to be kidding’
I am distracted, utterly.
I placed footprint in delicate footprint
Chasing her across sweaty floorboards,
Under stripper lights.
Her, ‘Take us anywhere’
The taxi pulled away and we let God catch us
As our bodies tangled… then fiercely repelled
Pushing my bones further into the door
Into my own insanity.
Outside stops blurring and the lights pause in my window
I turn and she’s in front of me.
She drops £10 in excited hands
Keep your coins, I want change.
Her feet fall on puddles. Broken mirrors.
My feet fall on puddles. Mirrored. Broken.
Fear breeds lust as lust in return breeds fear
And with this fear I follow
As if nothing could turn my body from hers.
She’s playing a game now
I am ever the more tempted
Not by the lust
By the fear.
I place each of her fingers
Delicate between mine
Each bone pressed hard, tracing the lines of my palm
Her resistance is mere shivers on my friendless flesh.
Blood, pulse, shaking.
We wander into whatever warm light that takes us
And take whatever drink is given.
Tea sits feeble between our monstrous bodies
I could crush it with my finger,
Press my fist slightly on the thin rim of paper cup
Balance knuckle to dip the plastic casing
And force cascade
She’s standing and walking
And I am day-drunk, dreaming.
So close to death and now so alone
So, I guess, even closer.
I wake up,
Pushing the grease further into my hair,
Yesterday’s problems cling to the damp ends.
The cleanest jumper stretches across my body, repulsed.
My phone shivers, a bar round the corner.
The one with liquid walls and solid drinks
Where the chairs cling to your thighs
And the men cling to your waist.
And your body is painted by a thousand eyes
Walking in I grab his hand and we leave through greasy doors.
A taxi takes our bodies in, refugees
Again he tries to have me
He has forgotten his own hopelessness.
His motionless frame fits perfectly into the leather
And I am once again reminded of his fragility
His simple, wounded body and mind
I help him out the door, his hands quiver under mine
I take his weight and we are free in open air
He looks distant
His pupils dilate further and he is lost from me again.
Like a mother I take his hand,
And he dribbles on my sleeve.
And I tell him we’re getting tea,
And he mumbles.
But he’s somewhere else
In another world.
He plays with my palm childishly
His innocent petal fingers, breakable.
His eyes mist like steamed glass
Body folding inwards,
Mind folding outwards.
Feeding him tea we sit lonely
Fingers too hard on my skin.
Nails trying to break and dent my flesh,
I pull his hand away sharp.
He doesn’t understand,
And he looks upset now.
It is impossible not to protect him
When I am everything he has
And without me he would be sitting feeble in a hospital bed,
Scientist’s plastic stool,