Make-believe

Legs piston-pumping through the opaque heat of a New York summer. I blink through the veil of sweat and wonder briefly at your life, carrying on, evolving, happening without me. So firmly held prisoner and apart by our own skins, continents, the sea, promises we made before we knew each other.

I whistle something tuneless that catches on the breeze and it whips past me to the rider on my right. She is an old friend, lost in her own biking thoughts, one eye turned inward and the other on passing cars and strangers.

I swerve simmering asphalt potholes, look up, note a passing plane, fancy outrunning it to Chelsea and grin at my own foolish games of make-believe. Finally making my darting way home through the constant obstacle course of big city traffic, I wonder if you ever conjure up my life happening over here without you.

Playground love

I’m a high school lover, and you’re my favourite flavour
Love is all, all my soul
You’re my playground love

Yet my hands are shaking
I feel my body reeling, time’s no matter, I’m on fire
On the playground, love.

You’re the piece of gold that flashes on my soul.
Extra time, on the ground.
You’re my playground love.

Anytime, anywhere,
You’re my playground love.

~ Air

Be generous with your love | Australia | Summer | 2011

Summer’s Score

by Summer’s score, I
levelled the ground with a roar
beat upon my chest and tore
rapaciously across the feathered floor
of field, forest, marshland, moor

With a burst and a battle cry, I’m plunging in the sea, flinging my meagre self through the foam, sweeping currents dragging at my feet. I’m hunting down spider webs through the woods, backlit and silver, crowned by her eight legged queen, casting fishing nets by the river with my dad and his deep, brown hands gently untangling and setting free the ones unfit for food, sprinting after butterflies in their erratic flight to find the perfect cradle in the perfect bloom.

A child of salt water and the summer, where I grew wild and barefoot.

Gold Coast | Australia

Sunlight perpetual

Reykjavik, Iceland
Summer, 2010

Peace of mind

We decide to take to the rooftops of Brooklyn. The summer comes and strokes us in secret places. Hard-edged places in soft light. Just the way we like it.