trying to explain

growing twelve hours older in an empty field. surrounds coloured sepia and some murky swaying trees, in slow motion, in half-light. spinning time with easy words and held hands. sampling an increasing repertoire of memories and in-jokes; keeping the volume low. exactly.

"what are you thinking about?"

at home in a sleeping park with bare feet. tripping toes to a lazy beat across grass punctured with suspicious bindi shapes: a rock? a little white flower?

sight muddied by night but the landscape is surprisingly clear and it's that one a.m. kind of lucid.

"you don't think i planned this?"