Tiny Hinge, Pink Myth

Breathe in

Breathe out

I'll be all right

It's just gateway tissue

right?

~

Tiny hinge.

Pink myth.

National infrastructure.

~

Summer villa.

White walls.

Expensive tiles.

~

Fan clicking

like a judging grandma.

~

The sea outside

performing purity

in fluent blue.

~

Rich boy.

~

And friends.

~

Plural.

Lovely.

A committee.

~

Three of them.

One girl.

~

Guess who?

~

Twenty summers in.

That a fact?

First time?

Really?

~

Sure. Sure. Sure.

~

Joke with legs,

the lamb with eyeliner,

the little fool

at the mouth of the room

thinking doors

are only doors.

~

Start one.

~

Add another.

~

Third just over there,

busy with his private little religion.

~

One in the weather.

One out of the weather.

Then weather from both sides.

~

High pressure.

Low pressure.

Pressure centre.

Stormfront.

~

Weep.

Whimper.

~

They like that too.

~

Seriously, wanker,

What are you doing there?

Read the room,

three is the number.

Got one more window open here.

No takers?

~

No?

~

Busy, right.

~

Sorry.

Keep on.

~

Good boy.

You never touched.

Not the girl, anyhow.

Feeling clean?

~

And the insufferable fan

doing the brain.

~

Clack. Clack. Clack.

~

Lightning gathers.

Boyish thunder.

Big tremble.

Deluge.

~

The couch receives.

The tiles receive.

The open ground receives.

Sink in warm soil.

Wasted seeds.

~

The door holds its breath.

The furniture agrees

to remember nothing.

~

Somewhere else,

Mothers whisper.

Fathers sharpen silence.

~

The whole blessed nation

saving itself for marriage

while villas do freelance work

down south.

~

Who is laughing?

Oh, the wanker.

What at?

Oh.

Yes.

That.

I’d laugh too.

~

Here,

let’s laugh together.

~

Ha. Ha. Ha.

~

Sorry.

Killed the mood, didn't I?

~

Shouldn't make it weird.

You're right.

~

My bad.

~

This is not how women begin,

surely.

~

Veil.

Lilies.

Cinematic mud.

Dead innocence

laid out in white.

None of that.

Please.

~

Let's not be that expensive.

Cab fare home will do.

~

That, and

heat.

Salt.

Tissue paper.

Fresh soil.

A fan with opinions.

Two boys

pleased with the weather.

A couch boy

not looking at me.

~

Breathe in.

Girl enters.

~

Breathe out.

Girl exits.

~

I'll be all right,

little idiot.

~

Gateway tissue.

Shoes on the floor.

~

Tiny hinge.

Someone else’s breath.

~

Pink myth.

Undies on the floor.

~

Nothing happens.

No one is.

.