Smile

        It started at the end, with a smile. 32 different muscles moving simultaneously and I could see every one of them. And I watched every one of them.

        Through all the nightclubs, full of bunnies and greyhounds; through all the bubblegum goon avenues and side alley hotels; through all the billboards’ wide eyed smiles and tele-visual stir-fried medleys of eternal youth, cheaper death and free money; through all the pay later chains’ multicolour-disposable-accessory cabinets; Through all the black and blue skies South of Waterloo that sometimes still reign when its sunny.

          Because we danced through the chapters of all the books we knew. And played all the characters we couldn’t remember the names of. Until the corners of our memories became dog-eared and frayed, and we shelved the games like leftovers you put in the freezer but never plan on eating. Because yesterday was scratched on the back of someone else’s cave, tomorrow was a blank screen and today was a hard place to define, but it smelt like hazel and coffee does from your bed in the morning. Because we were happy to role the dice again and again and again, until the wheels fell off or the ground was swept from under us by the black and blue skies South of Waterloo that sometimes still reign when it’s sunny.

            And even when they did and my bones turned to lead and it became harder to hide the gun at my head. And the night would hurt like cigarette burns on the souls of your feet and every step would remind me so. You would pull me through the day till the uninvited guests walked away. You would pull me through like a cannonball up Everest. You would pull me through like the last cardiac charge. You would pull me through like a rebel with a cause. You would pull me through from the black and blue skies south of Waterloo that sometimes still reign when it’s sunny.

Because, through it all, I had loved every one of them.