16/07/2022

they step up into the train door with the smallest queue. crane their necks for an empty seat. facing backwards, bags above them on the shelf. side by side, hurtling along tracks. words swarm past their eyes in respective paperbacks. purple water passes between them, a respite from the heat. two young beautiful earths perch on scratchy seats in short dresses. legs at right angles & elbows tucked in. fingers hold pages & heads bow low. 

they sit on wicker chairs, necks painted golden by the sun, soon to be reddened, freckled. a shared breakfast, waffles & sourdough, split in two unequal plates between them. these two, brunette & blonde, blown in from the same place, pulled apart, then reunited. 

they trudge along uneven pavements & cross roads with lights on red. warm backs & heavy hearts. gram by gram, lighter with every giggle, every laugh, every cackle. they follow the blue line between city buildings, mesmerised by wisteria & painted doorways. 

they climb steps to an upper floor flat. white light & countertops. textured walls & tall windows. they venture out along busy streets. stalls & tables & gazebos, olives & jewellery & paintings. iced coffee from the brothers with the fan at the back of the shop. records flick between hands, eyes scan & heat chokes. 

they sit, on a blanket of green. knees folded & arms floppy. the sun drips down over trees & books & chow chows. admiration steeped in tears, sadness, understanding. pain travels between them, linking them, freeing them. they laugh & they scream & one loves the attention & the other could go without it.  

they hold hands on the way back from the park. their fingers intertwined, held tight. sweat tingles in their palms & their fingers are held wide by large glass rings on every finger. their steps fall into place beside each other, recalling the route from memory. chipped fingernail polish & unrestricted hair.