Let’s not keep count

Let’s not keep count of years nor months nor days nor minutes no, let’s fish as if the deep were endless and we the equal of what might lurk below. I watched you at that party, your hair tied up your arms raised dancing with girls who had less years than you but less verve, less spark, your world class sexy mouthy smile and I felt the proper man laughing with an eye cocked your way and a thought of bed with you. I don’t wish we were younger than we are now nor will I wish it when the dust has stirred enough within us to join with dust and I am swirling with the wind and scattered over fields and cannot hold a hand out to you. Let’s go down hill with momentum in love with the blurring scenery, our sensory machinery on whirring wheels and us drunk pilots drinking champagne a finger raised to the crossroads and cul de sacs and sharp crescent bends and those roadside stooped with the heavy thought of how it ends.

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