Lovers’ Lane


Come with me. Put down what you’re doing and walk out of the door. I’ll be there, waiting for you like always. Gaze into my loving eyes. Take my hand and walk with me away from home, past the stuttering amber lights. Ignore the sharp stones that stick into your bare feet, piercing and pricking. Concentrate instead on my tender touch and the rhythm of our steps: a wedding march down a barren tarmac aisle. Smile but say no words. Let the bleeding light of the pallid moon wash over you. I’ll lift you into the field. Your skin will scratch and scrape cruelly though the rows of corn but take no heed. Follow me into the blackness of the old cottage. Let the darkness swallow you whole. Feel my breath on your neck; like a winter wind its hiss will caress you. Feel the cadence of your shivering heart echo in the emptiness. Taste the soft chill of my kiss on your trembling lips. You may hold me now. Unveil yourself and press your body against mine. I will cloak you delicately in my arms and lay you on the dirt. You may touch my ashen skin and wipe the tears from my hollow eyes. Give yourself to me. I will seal our vows with a kiss on your neck: a red ring as a token of my love.

And when you wake in the morning you will love me and know it is time to sleep.


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