Authored: February 1, 2021

PROSE

It's night. Down an almost deserted city street, this cold night we wander. Under lights that hide the shadows crawling behind our basic vision. I reached out and you took my hand. A touch. Something fundamentally absent. Under cauterised stars, I whispered inaudibly almost, "Stop". I looked at you and your hand reached out and caressed my face. Time stood still this night. I pushed you against the cold pillars of a Capitalist wet dream and kissed you hungrily. I no longer could feel the biting cold, and a calmness befell me.

We kissed as the streetlights one by one turned off and the air-sirens started wailing.