Capricious

13 - Hanging Gardens

"Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it."
- Confucius

Jigsaw blood. Samba crutch to the thud. Thesselina's grave under the peach tree. Tartan skirts, smooth legs so pale. Copper delight, vanilla in the night. Keep up little lion. Rewinding torches, sledging up caves, tunnelling our bodies through ever tighter holes. Hamsters in our spinning balls. Everything caked with moss, strewn autumn leaves. Posing in the breeze to the gale. I promise you fair maiden, I will not fail. I will take more than just your mind from you. My wonders they are to me. To share in Babylon, to exult in Alexandria. And I want them with you.

I'm so hot for you. Outrageous deep dive, split against the floor, fibres of carpet tickling our skin. Monstrous I am, to devour with unconscious thought, for no reason at all. I dare to have everything I want. The world belongs to me, and you in it. Children of the court, no scandal without us. Boarding school, risking beds mixed, through windows, down roofs. Convertible thundering down the motorway. Kitchen of light stone. Then always a rush to pleasure. What cares? We new. To ever be young. Itching away all time, as close enough in each other's arms.

What did we do in the rain? Laughing in the shelter, skipping without a rational care.

Apricot, sweet fruit to enjoy, as simple as that. Drooling, sticky juices, sunbirds and swimming pools. A mojito dear? Here into the dark. Sampling nectars on the beachfront. Naked in the waves, grouping away. To ever go that bit further. Bicycle rides through unknown country lanes, hills and rise. This will do, here is where I do to you. You turn me on my back and straddle me high. Playing me a slave, reckless and abandoned. You take yourself on me. Crushed with pulsating pleasure, straining me too hard. Cumming on top of me, you fragile little thing. The island breathes. There we stay. Campfire and a smoke and a dance. Silly as can be, so bella beautifully. Skill unmattered. Teardrops to my chest, weeping for wonder. If only we didn't expect so much.

Ruins in the jungle. That teenage girl phase, we had no reason not to. Malls and lockers and walks between the maple trees. Scotch in the bar, you scorch with ice. Skating to me. Is this what winning buys me? Rowing curly haired down the river. What was I ever running to? Was it to them, a chosen obsession? Is that why it slowed in length, quickened in speed? Why was I ever there? If only we knew. See, I've seen you in other lives. You were there all along.

It all just burned away, the sun made me not to worry. I lied above myself, became it before I had realised, in Irish-scened pubs and shot and bench bars. Our whole house, a night too drunk, from bar to fast food and back. Passed out among the beds, lying next to her. Two nights of tundra. Make fast junior.

To capture the perfect pleasure, that's the ideal. Taking the duelling dragons. The city of angels. All you dreamed of too. Vibrating corpse, ice cubes in your panties. Eggs benedict and skinny lattes. The plane ride back as well. Blankets over truth, silking in-between. The artist's loft. Staring into you for years at a time in that bed. Awake or not. Baths together, bubbles and breasts. Dripping wet. I will do a shot for you.

Equivalent to one thought, that's as complex as mine. Each a series in a chess game, thinking moves in front, for moves just taken. Then what is it to checkmate? Will we really win the game? Laboratories under the bed, felt-tip projects. This is what I was made for. Holding our breath and swimming for it. How did I get there? Meaning fades through time. Fairy tale castles and back alleyways.

And then I go and spoil it all by doing something stupid like I do to you. Starlight and fallen moons. Charging batteries down the pier. You try too hard. Palm against your neck, jacuzzi on the deck. Starburst. Bubbling bodies, breaching masks of friendly fires. Spying you through the market stalls, dressed in a blue sari. We walk atop walls, sun sets down hills. I need her fierce.

Our eyes are cameras, recording flickers. Echoes fading fast. A river to catch meaning from. An oven to warm our memories.

Running away with trees. Sleeping in the camper van. Picnics and drawing and hotboxing out by nowhere.

Before the dark was just to sleep. Now we live in it.