His heart vaults over fleeced clouds, flies through the blue-golden sky. Cars swing by like waltzers. Passengers lay into rushing air that might carry them to the ends of the earth (if they weren’t just going home.) Some parents snog on the pavement, pink sandals colour-match her dress. At ten to ten, he crushes the voice of his mother making cowboy puns. Masculinity is flaming at his heels, straightening his spine, widening his shoulders. He’s been out at night for ages, he knows these kind streets. He remembers winter. When he hunched and the night air attacked and the darkness used to seep inside. He styled it out, he could always style it out but tonight he is doesn’t. Tonight, his stride is strong and true. He is bare armed, unlocked, unsheltered…..
Maybe it all starts here, maybe it all starts now.
A like is lovely but a comment is real compliment. If you are inspired by this post, please add some words of your own below.