“It’s a humid night and you and your partner have not seen anyone under the thick haze hugging the street lamps. You are slowly led to the centre of an empty football stadium. There is an elevated bed of concrete. Your hand is held. You find the thousands of empty seats surrounding you comforting.
The stadium lights are soft. You lie down on the concrete bed without clothes, and wonder if you had ever even worn any. Your partner sits on the edge of the giant bed. The rock is warm. You look at the sky and can almost see the air. Slow vines creep up along your skin, warmer than the air, warmer than any touch; and soft. They are cracking the rock below. Your partner walks over, you can’t tell, is he swimming in the leaves or
Soft lips and soft veins and soft air and wet skin and the tightness leaving you breathing slow and hard. And skin and vine and rock and air, and the quick reflexes of pleasure and hypnagogia. And from the monitors of the stadium, the echo of The Crystals.