fleeting

It is 00.51 and I have kept the light on.

I want nothing more than to smell these roses.

You look down from the top-floor room of your hotel onto the beach below.

I imagined him striding into Sloane Square station, coffee in hand, handsome, hyena-hung

I’d study my naked self: small-bodied and cross-legged on his sex-wrinkled sheets.

I held the tenner out to him. He was Reebok Classics, drainpipe pale blue jeans, ellesse sweater and at least a foot taller.

“Hey,” says the one with the neck tattoo and the blunt, “dude here can give us a ride to the party.”

Unzip the bag and pull out the camera. Don’t fumble.

1. Get artificially inseminated by your gay roommate. Freak out about the idea of childbirth and get an abortion. Feel guilty.

I hear Cary Grant calling me a funny little red head in my dream