Today turned out to be one of those rare, overcast, long and sultry days that British springs only turn up once every few years. It had a strange and peculiar libidinous quality, the atmosphere oozing sex: the plants bursting full of flower and sexual activity at a slow vegetable pace; animals mewling and growling in the shrubbery; long knowing glances cast across bars and restaurant tables between people who understand, yet don’t understand why…….
The air has a thick liquid quality, and I could almost feel the lust brushing against my skin as I walked through the city tonight, touching the skin on my arms and face as I pushed through the warm sticky air. The atmosphere has a latin, mediterranean feel to it. It reminds me of evenings walking in holiday cities, Barcelona or Lisboa, looking up at birds circling in the light of the streetlamps, voices echoing off the walls of the narrow streets, music gently rolling across the rooftops from bars and tavernas.
I long for those walks now. The gentle touch of a soft hand on my sleeve, a warm breath by my side, a heartbeat walking beside me, soft hair resting against my shoulder, a smile and tender moist eyes.
There is a storm brewing.
originally posted 10 May 2001 at 11:59pm
separating the wanted from the unwanted