Nov 22 2004
Insatiable
Your trousers are wet and the damp is creeping from around your ankles to just below your knees. It snakes its way with time, inviting a cool chill into your skin. You’ve walked so far today that the soles of your feet ache, and your eyes sting from the evening’s cool air. You pour stories over beautifully crafted cocktails and wrap your hands in your knotted scarf, wishing you could sleep in the cocoon of warmth that he offers you.
Under tonight’s blanket of stars it feels as if this city is collapsing. It is falling to its knees around you and you stand here - centre stage. Fragments of memories shatter like a broken mirror and leave you staring up at the sky, a void so deep, it is an abyss that envelops you.
You do silly things like count your footsteps home, or sit in lonely churches when you know that God is Dead. You’ll hold his arm all day and fall asleep on his sofa, and realise that this should be happening with someone else.