They want to be, they want to be,
Their need, every Saturday night.
A living runway where you can take off from under their feet.
The circles around me, move. It is unclear.
I feel as though I am on a fairground ride.
I am hanging on, but I am perched.
I take a sip. Slowly.
The roaring wave of people,
Undressing the habitual.
I let my stare guide me.
They are always above, breaking the skin of their ceiling.
I can already feel their landing, on a bed of blisters.
One of them looks at me.
As their fingertips talk and flick through me
As if I were a catalogue of recipes.
The dish of the day comes with lasers,
or maybe just mood swings.
The same one returns, this time heavier.
The essay from his eyes is under the word count.
I cradle a beer and nod at your moving lips.
Perhaps, if I keep nodding, he will go away.
The nuts and bolts tightened by the want.
The want to do
Chants and cheers are like accessories,
They wipe the nerves off the slate,
So we can get closer, closer to the lip locking rainfall.
It has been so long.
Moving lips returns,
I am thrilled.
His persistence is like a mosquito,
I must smell really good.
The inevitable gallops through my clouds,
The bedsheets appear,
On the dancefloor.
I don’t think
It would be a picnic in the park, this time next week,
Or love making.
Love making at 22? Does that even exist?
He looks at me.
I hope he sees me for my cynicism.
I take off my jacket, to show him
I am black all over.
I am cut from a cloth that his hands have never scrubbed the floor with.
I would empty his fantasy in a handclap.
But no, my style has no desire to defeat,
But to dress up distance.
And I could let you in,
If you liked Roxy Music or the talking heads.
Maybe a walk,
Maybe, you could eventually unzip me,
And tenderly, explore.
Now you are looking away.
My mind hasn’t championed you,
As I make the decision to leave, to go home and sulk.
To sleep off these bleeps,
you grab my arm,
And I make it out in one word “Me”.
“Yes me”, I reply.
“You are you, and I am me”, I say.
Just two different takes
On this disco novel.
Almost 30. Writer and teacher living in Spain. Liam is currently working on a debut book of poetry titled 'Becomings'.
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