He sighs and shakes the can of spray paint vigorously. It is a sheer drop down to the busy highway below, and the suspended rampart he stands on swings madly in the wind. The longer he thinks about it, the longer he would have to think about it. He starts spraying:
Spray my brains
Spray my soul
Spray my heart
Across this wall
For life was once
Sunshine and gold
But is now
Drudgery and cold
Mark me love's latest victim
Joy drawn, quartered, and sold
She sighs and brings her goggles down over her eyes as the plane begins to make its ascent. It is a clear blue sky on a clear blue day. The longer she thinks about it, the longer she would have to think about it. The plane begins to make complex maneuvers that involve dives, somersaults and loop-the-loops as it trails great billows of cloudy smoke to form fluffy cotton letters in the sky:
My heart flutters like an old bird
Like an old bird in flight
Old age is second childhood
With second childhood's delight
But my heart is weary and battered
Its battered wings alight
On forlorn distant isolated shores
Isolated in heartbreak's night
They both reminisce fondly of the good old days. A couple of cool kids doing cool things. Surfing the mile high tsunamis of the mind's eye. Ascending those breathtakingly high peaks of fancy, and then jumping off the cliff. Suspending disbelief for a fraction of eternity.
Those were the good old days:
H: Bikes and leather jackets on the beach
S: Riding pillion on the streets
H: Roaring at the seagulls at our feet
S: Flying through wind and rain and sleet
H: Playing songs that miss no beat
S: Dancing to mad rhythms of the feet
H: Playing the devil in between the sheets
S: Screaming to wild rhythms in our heat
How had it all begun? That awkwardness of first meetings. That initial trepidation, anxiety, butterflies in the stomach, worst case scenarios and best case scenarios. Nebulous times.
She in her dress picked from so many other dresses. Pair of earrings shining gold. Heart in mouth. Storm in head:
Who is he where is he when is he
Coming to the bar
How is he I'm dizzy
No time for dinner
Bread and cheese winner
Hope he orders well takes charge
Shines in armor in
He in his lucky shirt, considered lucky because that one girl in high school thought it looked good on him many years ago. Hair slicked back. Strong odors of cologne and Brylcreem:
Man to Woman
Woman to Man
Charm, flirt, and make her laugh
With my humor deadpan
Breathe in breathe out be cool
Dazzle her in the span
Of breath it takes to say
Oh baby you're my Roxanne
They danced the delicate social dance of niceties and good behavior. Restrained selves. Restrained longing for big spoon in the night. Conversations blurring by in a flurry of drinks. Move to ice cream place. Close in for the kill, he thinks. What's he planning? She speculates:
Well it's been a nice evening
Hanging out with you
Hm? Yes it has I'll be ordering my Uber now
Plenty of things to do
Have the last of
This ice cream will you
Nah I'm good I'll get-mmffff... melt into a kiss
Like flowers in the morning dew....
Fast forward to eternities later and big spoons little spoons on sleepless nights. Fights for the blanket morphing into crazy copulation:
What are you up to my puppy my bunny
My sweet pineapple pie?
Oh nothing thinking sweet nothings utterings
Riding this love soaked high
What are you planning what are you cooking
My handsome hunk my saucy guy
Oh just baking sweet cakes blending milkshakes
Letting some fresh cod fry
But every peak is followed by a trough and life is a pitiless sine curve. Perhaps that is a cynic's perspective... But we'll find out soon enough:
But you said that she said that
He said that thus is so?
Well I did but what I meant was
Gibberish gibberish oh no
And what of you and your machinations
And your schemes that dealt a blow?
Don't raise your voice at me
Your insecurities are all aglow
Well perhaps if you weren't so selfish
This argument wouldn't grow
Well perhaps if you weren't so lazy
This lawn wouldn't need a mow...
Navigate back to now.
He lowers himself carefully onto the ground, for even a heartbroken life is precious. He strolls to the beach and eyes the pliable sand and all the shapes he can trace on it, and all the thoughts he can give shape to:
I wasn't such an ass
Uncouth and crass
Have lost my lass
Perhaps perhaps perhaps
She lands the plane with gentleness and grace. It taxies casually to the other end of the beach. She jumps out and eyes the tracks the plane has left in the sand, and all the thoughts she can trace there and lay bare:
I wasn't so taciturn
Thoughts and feelings churn
Build up bubble and burn
Have heartbreak earned
Maybe maybe maybe
They have been moving towards each other from opposite ends of the beach.
It has been a sunny day with clear blue skies so far.
But they finally eye each other from a distance.
Heavy grey clouds move to cover the sun now. There are whispers of a storm on the horizon.
They begin to close the gap tentatively, etching words in the sand with their feet, their movement determined by the shape the words form. A graceful dance choreographed by the shape of their thoughts.
The cloudy sky rumbles portentously:
H: Do you remember the good times: the chimes, the rhymes, the wines?
S: The crazy times: in your arms, my charms, in barns. So many yarns
H: Would it be so crazy then, to give this another shot?
S: We could take it steady now: not a gallop, a careful trot
Cue thunder in the background. The wind whips strands of long raven hair around her face:
H: I shall endeavor to be a better man, failing which you can smack my head with a pan
S: I shall strive to be a better lady, openly communicative thoughts less shady
H: Learn I shall from the mistakes I make, every Sunday bake you a cake
S: Share I will in your hopes and dreams, on naughty days lather you up in cream
They are so close to each other now that they can hear every intake and exhalation of the other's breath. Their lips part and close over each other as lightning flashes in the sky, followed by deep rumbling thunder.
Their bodies make poetry that cannot be put into words as the heavy downpour drenches their light summer clothes.
But they are lost to the rest of the world...