It all happened a very long time ago, yet the writing of it brings sight, sounds, smells and touch to vivid recall.

Alone together in the crowded candle lit smoke filled room, an unspoken agreement made, they still sat, surrounded,
the air humming between them. She wondered how long it would take, willed the friendly voices, the faces lit by soft light, to go away. Her hand lay unmoving, turned upwards in her lap, but the elemental ghost of it drifted up of its own volition, stretched out across the table and curled her fingers around his neck….she could feel the heat of him. As the night grew longer, little by little everyone drifted away, to sleep in cars, on floors, a spare chair, anywhere.

Nothing was said, they both stood up in a room empty but for sleeping bodies, came together easily……the feel of his body, muscled with hard labour pulled tight against her, the strong male scent of him overpowering, she breathed him in, sniffing breath, neck and chest the way wild animals do….sensing each other, then turned, took his hand,
led him to to an old couch in the closed in verandah, found a blanket….not so much for warmth as for cover…..sanctuary.

Clothes thrown on the floor, she reaches up from this rough bed, draws him down, takes him in. Cocooned in this dimly lit world, relaxed , blood pulsing with weed and whisky, they come together, every part of both bodies touching, kissing. “Oh god, the taste of him, his full lipped mouth is everything she dreamed“
“You are SO smooth “ he whispers, his voice rough and deep in his belly. They move together, fused together, for the few short hours before daylight, and unknowingly she sinks into sleep, still holding him.
And wakes, with him leaving, it’s still so early, and she’s already hungry for him, again. He bends kisses her, laughs softly because she wants more, she wants him. No hiding the truth of it now, and from the first sighting, despite everything, it was always going to be this way, was already too late.
Reaching up, pulling him back to her, taking his mouth, she whispers, voice husky and cracked with so little sleep
“Stay, stay with me….don’t go to work, stay”
And pulling back, laughing, he turns, walks out the door, shutting it quietly…..she hears him kick the motorcycle over, smells petrol fumes, it sputters, kicks into life, roars off down the driveway and gradually fades. And she lies, listening to the sound of it, becoming fainter, as he vanishes into the crisp, cold, mountain morning.

MA©️. Winter 2018
To be continued