Could this have been so short awhile ago? This love of ours now an imagined never mind. My hand still winces from the absence of yours. That space filled with warm encouragements, the promise of something more.Tongues.
The angles of this marriage were sharp, defined and detailed with the strangest of hieroglyphs like Chinese whispers carved into porcelain. As fragile as virginity. As chaste and redundant as old metaphors - fast as a cheetah, as swift as time. A banquet of chilled meats left out for our tiny mouths to feast on.
Was it just the wheel spinning another neat trick or did my heart mean anything to you at all? Just my naïve child mind that spoke its usual dull witticisms', its clichéd truths that amused you and made me wince. Makes me wince still.
I could have been your hero. I could have levitated for you. Made small objects disappear and reappear like tarot cards being turned. But voodoo didn’t impress you did it? Nothing but smoke and mirrors with me desperate to polish the glass that slides between you and me.
An insect on a slide.
A stone in a bottle.
A memory frozen.
The hungry hours pass now with a ravenous appetite that consumes not just our fond remembrances but all of our passions. With every bitter mouthful comes a new hurt.The years will pass like sand sifting too quickly. You and I will regret this bitterest of memories.
Once upon a golden time we could have chased the stars and beaten them to the sun. We could have flown where angels didn’t have the nerve to go. Vigilantes in love. Desperados in lust who never knew the meaning of fear. Of hurt. Everything was you. For you and about you.And me?
I will pass from your life but not quietly. I never did things by halves did I?
Now and forever more we will be Strangers on the street.. . . Russell Cuts the Corn From The Brewers Whiskers.