Remember that time we almost

The blue pool lining sags at the wall failure. Soft rain falls and your shoulder warms my shoulder and the chickens are at rest in the branches. I light my cigarette with your cigarette and the smoke we make drifts into the yard. You are still awake and I am still awake and airbrakes from the highway punctuate the pre-light.

Beyond the back fence and above the tv aerials light points shimmer and evaporate. You are not with him and I am not with her and the pegs have formed a parliament on the hoist.

Silver collects on the handle of a left-out spade. A magpie commences transmission. I lean closer and you lean closer and your mouth is warmer than your face. The porch gutter drips and my boots tick. I recline and you recline and the deck is smooth and the dog comes sniffing in our ears.

Sundown on Liverpool St