Feet slide together then slip slowly, unstoppably, apart – the fence stops his fall. Families in red gloves, blue scarves, skate past him as he clings to the rough-painted wood. She sees him clinging there, still slipping, and feels a warm rush: “I’ll skate with you”. She takes his elbow.
love
Scratch and lick
Boy meets girl and girl meets boy.
Honey, perhaps undercut with a lemon premonition.
Girl and boy turn and walk away.
An aftertaste of old saccharine.
Boy and girl, alone; girl and boy.
Thick curtain odour of whisky, rum and yesterday’s cigarettes.
Girl and boy catch glimpses across a crowded room.
Memories of rich red wine in glinting glasses.
Boy and girl leave crowded room, alone.
Eyestinging chilli till the morning light but no vinegar dream regrets.
Or perhaps, perhaps, a flavour.
A theist and an agnostic look at the sky
– It’s called a starry sky, that’s what it’s called.
– I know, but it should be a starred sky, not starry. They didn’t get there on their own, did they? Someone – something – put them there.
– Look, one’s falling, shooting across the sky, make a wish, make a wish.
– So someone’s pushed it. Imagine it, a huge finger with a huge manicured fingernail flicking the star so it skeets across the sky.
– Aye, that’s maybe. But now look at me, look at me wide eyed, so I can see where the stars have fallen to, see the diamond light in your black black eyes.
– Babe?
– Yes, babe?
– The sky’s enough, isn’t it?
– Yes. Yes, the sky’s enough.
Switch
Her love was on a dimmer switch. Fading from light hard and bright and long, it disappeared with a click that broke his heart.
Present
Al’s lover gave him a heart monitor to wear in bed. It always sounded. The last time it covered the sound of her husband’s key.
S got married
Many years ago today S got married. Too young, too hasty, to the wrong person. No cake, no candles or cabaret. That was then. Things change.
When Hardy met Rosa
They said Hardy had a heart of stone. But when Rosa smiled her white light smile, colours exploded from the diamond in his chest.
Trying to explain biros
Madeleine puffed out her cheeks. She wanted to write something clear, something interesting, something set in the past. And that was a problem.
She knew what biros were, she had used one herself at school. But now, every time she tried to write the word, her writer changed it to ‘bird’. At first it was funny – ‘Calvin tapped the bird gently on his teeth as he thought’ – and then it was not. She tried writing the letters one by one, with spaces in between, and then taking the spaces away, but as she did, the biro became a bird. Life was too short; she wrote ‘writer’ instead and forgot about Calvin’s white, white teeth. Pen would have done, she thought later, but then it was too late.
And then there was the thing with the orange. The orange tan. The big ape thing. She wrote orange tan in the search box but there was no result. But she was sure she remembered them. Big brown apey things with very long arms. But maybe not.
Later in the year the rain stopped and the sun steamed the puddles. Madeleine sat outside the drinkhouse and tried to explain biros to Calvin. But he did not remember or understand. He had always used a writer, hadn’t he? Madeleine drank her drink and gave up. Her feelings for Calvin wrinkled a little. She decided not to talk about orange tans.
Later again she thought about her feelings and wrote in her journal. How did she feel? Well, she lived him. What? No, I mean I live him. Oh, this is ridiculous. I l-o-v-e LIVE him. No. She wrote l-o-v- in the search box. NO RESULT. DO YOU MEAN LIVE? No. Please no. Not this. Please leave us something. NO RESULT. DO YOU MEAN NOTHING?
A tweet would be sweet
She favourited me and favourited me but never retweeted. I tried to DM her but I think I was muted. Or blocked. A tweet would be sweet.
Map
On white carpet she squeezed paint tubes to map out her lovings; lines of hot colour first arrowed, then wandered; then smudged.
simonsalento 