Phone calls and long conversations
British lilt from a brutish man with thick rugby thighs and a big slab of meat
What’s your favorite word?
Psychopathy, I say. And apothecary, galactic, turpitude. What’s yours?
Luminescence. And reciprocity.
Sea salt and black pepper crackers in my ears after a long drunken day with his friends
Six Nations rugby match in Ireland, an extended brunch and many, many beers
I couldn’t wait to call you again.
I’m glad. Leave yourself a note for tomorrow about how witty and charming I was on the phone.
I won’t have to do that. You’re different. Beautiful and intelligent.
And he’s 5000 miles away
Except in 4 weeks he will be a table top away, an arm’s length
Which is why I will still be looking