Thursday, 24 December 2009

SHOT NO 31, by Anthony Sides

November disappearing - the houses silhouettes of themselves. The trees against the faded fields. Flowers red yellow blue in the park - the careful staggering of bright flowers for all seasons - a Mandelson for all seasons. Here, though, the air is as warm as your thighs. Walking down towards the edge of the sea pretending not to hold my belly in, the wind blowing your hair enough to the side to touch my shoulder. The sea dotted and dashed by the trunks of the palms, green waves higher than the beach, slopping thud, and we turn and smile at each other and I'm pleased to be thoughtless.

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