Screaming Hallelujah
One Sunday, a short while from now.
A flat, far from here, a musky scented doorway. The scrabbles of a young dog, grappling with the wooden floor on the other side. You knock and stand.
A woman with unkempt hair trailing, a ruffled dress and long socks. China replaced, quick bids to arrange, a distant giggly shout. A dog shooed, awkward clanks of locks.
I stand, and raise my eyebrows bemusedly.
More china, hot water, steam. A small room hugging an overgrown straggled tent. Floor cushions, picked at candles, red wine stained cushions. Clutter, you state. Creativity, I defend.
Quiet smiles, long looks. Chatting, light flirting, heavy mocking. Petting of the dog. More hot water, more steam. Homemade cake from the other day. Crumbly bad, a rueful mess. One polite giggle and a shameful blush.
An eventual cuddle, in a darkened quilted tent. A sleeping dog, a unfolding of something. Shy awkwardness, two small rolled joints. For me. A corkscrew, some bizarre wine. I tell you how happy I am you're here.
You smile. A look, a hand movement, a moment, a kiss. Long kisses, yes you're here. Two people, close in a scrapyard tent. A dress removed, a girl in underwear and old long socks. A man, who had to leave, but has returned. Maybe just for now. But at least for a while.
All these things. Simple, delicate dreams.
One Sunday, a short while from now.
A flat, far from here, a musky scented doorway. The scrabbles of a young dog, grappling with the wooden floor on the other side. You knock and stand.
A woman with unkempt hair trailing, a ruffled dress and long socks. China replaced, quick bids to arrange, a distant giggly shout. A dog shooed, awkward clanks of locks.
I stand, and raise my eyebrows bemusedly.
More china, hot water, steam. A small room hugging an overgrown straggled tent. Floor cushions, picked at candles, red wine stained cushions. Clutter, you state. Creativity, I defend.
Quiet smiles, long looks. Chatting, light flirting, heavy mocking. Petting of the dog. More hot water, more steam. Homemade cake from the other day. Crumbly bad, a rueful mess. One polite giggle and a shameful blush.
An eventual cuddle, in a darkened quilted tent. A sleeping dog, a unfolding of something. Shy awkwardness, two small rolled joints. For me. A corkscrew, some bizarre wine. I tell you how happy I am you're here.
You smile. A look, a hand movement, a moment, a kiss. Long kisses, yes you're here. Two people, close in a scrapyard tent. A dress removed, a girl in underwear and old long socks. A man, who had to leave, but has returned. Maybe just for now. But at least for a while.
All these things. Simple, delicate dreams.