le Village

Is it fate that we should find nothing but nutmeg in the electricity flowing current by current through the wires? I would never know, would I? For every appliance in my Spanish flat is frayed and sparking to break circuts and threaten the users.

Electricity is a priviledge. It slides up my arm when my fingers catch between the sockets, and again in between our skin on the moments when you want me too. And do you realize that I am always? I always, always, seem to find room for another bite of ice cream.

But what if I am destined, in denial, a lactose intolerant? What if your sweetness should turn my stomach to stone? I would purge rocks down the path to your feet and all the while you would hold me at the length of your arm. Never would my shape and marble feel the warmth of something beyond your chest.

This hostel bedroom has six beds and a skylight that looks to the stars. I see the clouds sail by the rate of traveller's dreaming. Tomorrow I will stand at the top of the Eiffel Tower and make a wish for us. But until then, I will find the one star through the milk of clouds and wish upon my dreams of you.