Tuesday, 30 August 2016

Nice Fires

I chew gum and message comrades
as I wait for you on the corner of Albert Street and Leith Walk.
I see you in the distance wearing red blouse and black cardigan, an angelic vision in hellish Leith. An hallucination of feminine beauty.

We ascend Calton hill together. I
hold your bag whilst you remove your cardigan on this humid evening.
We find a free bench on the other side of the monument. It's quieter
here and we've a perfect view of the castle ready
for the imminent firework display.

We talk about our grandparents for a while and zip up our coats as night
grows cool. Teenagers experiencing vodka for perhaps
the first time become violent nearby. We sit close together on the top of the bench, sometimes
standing for a better view.

Back down in Leith we enter a bar on Elm Row. I grasp your thigh as I
push past you to go to the toilet. I experience a similar
sensation as to that of ingesting MDMA; everything becomes hazy &
there's that sick feeling of coming up. We decide

That you shouldn't call in sick to work
Tomorrow as you're too conscientious and responsible.

This morning the ecstatic seagulls seemed
to mirror my mania.

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