3 a.m.

So I’m trampling through the undergrowth, wondering what the hell I think I’m doing. I know M’s waiting for me. I know I’m late. I know undergrowth and 3 inch heels are not friends. But here I am. In the dark. Trampling.

I will come for you at nighttime
I will raise you from your sleep

Those fekkin’ antipodean songs. Bloody Aussies. Beating their blood rush lyrics through me. Why I like them, I don’t know. But when I’m there, the words speak, croon themselves into me and I can feel the heat of them as they coil and whisper into the night air. Not meant to be angry. But right none the same.

I will come for you at nighttime
I will raise you from your sleep
I will kiss you in four places
As I go running along your street
I will squeeze the life out of you
You will make me laugh and make me cry
And we will never forget it
You will make me call your name
And I’ll shout it to the blue summer sky

And we may never meet again
So shed your skin and let’s get started
And you will throw your arms around me
Yeah, you will throw your arms around me*

We may never meet again? What kind of shite is that? My heel stuck in the wet, rank soil. Fuck. Why do I do this? Rant and run and rage at some stupid twist of fated fluffery. I don’t get like this anymore. I don’t rage. So much. Anymore. But here I am. In the dark.

———–

*Throw Your Arms Around Me. Hunters & Collectors, Human Frailty, 1986