This is all nature, he says.
He is lying on the waterfront, the concrete rough and warm under his back.
The corners of buildings crowd the blue hemisphere above him.
She closes her eyes and tries to be one with nature. She can hear an aeroplane buzzing across the sky. Jervois Quay is a murky river of noise, rising over its banks and flooding the city. After a few moments she starts to notice waves slapping against the rocks. Seagulls screeching.
The wind.
She opens her eyes and the skyscrapers seem to fall towards her.
He starts laughing, and his laughter is part of the song of the day, with the seagulls and the cars and the wind. She closes her eyes again, breathes in the salt and the slightly rotten scent of seaweed.
He is standing now, reaching out to the city and the harbour and the hills.
We are nature, he says.
*
He says he wants to see the world: the jungles, the cities, the arid deserts.
This is the world, she cries. He laughs and touches her cheek. Stay with me, she says, but his eyes are fixed on other landscapes. He tightens the straps on his pack and kisses her cheek.
We’ll share the same moon, he says
and turns away.
*
He sends his love with the moon and it pours through her window
saturates her dreams.
He is restless and feverish.
His hands graze over his skin, tugging at his body, searching for her.
The moon blushes golden and slips beneath the horizon.
She reaches out at night, as though her arms have not accepted his absence.
Posted by Fionnaigh at August 12, 2003 09:15 PM