life, don’t talk to me of it, I know it not

I wandered today in my mind to the beach. I watch the waves at sand and felt the hard wall against the soles of my feet. I dreamed about you last night. All of you. I went to the City and lived in sun: my eyes filled with gold.

Today I rediscovered a book I wrote in when I was fifteen. There’s a sixteen page section of multi-flavoured line thought. As many random facts as I could think of, trying, I suppose, for automatic writing. Scintillatingly private thoughts, blurred together, reminding me who I was then.  Another person would need a guide to read them. Some of it is hilarious.

It’s all about people.

Where is my angel now? He had golden hair then, it glittered as he moved. I think now he’s scared of me. Not a pity. It meant so much to me and so little to him. Liar. Perfect swirl of everything. The day I baked my feet playing hacky-sack in the back alley behind the house.

Gavin I miss you.