Gavin Elias

A slight tremour ripples through my

leg – mild – subtly melded with the delicate veneer of

shrimp and champagne.  Tingling, I reach towards a cocktail

of pricked humour, pulsating bass – it’s here they say –

and empty glass pendulum swaying

Like the plush sofa before the gaping

stairway and faint breeze and clicking heels on concrete.  A beat

– shifting sidewalks undulate vaguely; blurred dapples of my

perception shift, musky sky to blue limousine

glow.  Racing by with imperceptible motion.

Laughter resonates, deafening he says – her laugh like

pellucid crystal, warm face that jolts in flickering frames, all raucous

and loose in the flood – is everything still good we ask?  Like time’s

disjointed limbs and gestures out of sync.  It hangs in

the thick air.

Doors slam open – the beat of thudding feet, pounding hearts

adds to the syncopated rhythm of the nightscape as

I smile and laugh – it’s all right everything is fine she

says I’m good, we’ll walk in while images flash by like a stop

motion kaleidoscope holding her warm hand.