Bag

I left my bag at the Poobah.
I saw a lot of people that I thought I knew but didn’t.
The bag contained my favourite pair of bed socks.
They are for winter.
Yellow in colour, I hope I never lose them.
I drank a dark ale.

That girl was there.
I forget her name.
my god though. She cuts through to me.
Her eyes. Her cheekbones.
Chin, smiling lips.
Glitter. Cordially I asked.
Please. I beg of you.
Get me out of here, you under my arm.

A woollen jacket.
Money to spend.
You and I.
Travelling, on foot.
Laughing and joking. Having a ball.
Rolling with the punches. Sleeping under trees.
If you can dream better your physical self can suffer.
The mind’s limiting chemicals.
Lonely.
God dammit.

Nobody’s coming out?
I guess its up to me to dance.
It was lovely to meet you Sue.
“you both obviously didn’t grow up in Hobart”.
Or maybe we did and we got away, and that’s why we’re dancing.

But how far did I get really.
Tonight. Tucked up, lost bag.
Fuck.

Romance though.
Something gone awry. “the magic”.
Gone. Two high-minded individuals.
DEEP.
They talk.

One says. “how long should we spend apart?”

The other says: “as long as it takes”

So she leaves.
She departs and she has and adventure,
Falls in love. Is attacked. Kills someone homeless.
flees to new persia. Contracts malaria.
Sick, shuddering and shaking in a room.
She is rescued by a man selling icecreams.
Door to door. He lets himself in, hoping to steal her watch.
He sees her shuddering.
He takes the watch, then he takes pity.

She has a fever. In a large shirt of some kind, completely damp, and business pants. She is thin, and terribly unwell. Curled into an unfathomable position.
Wretched. Shaking, boiling. Streams of sweat pour out of her, through her sodden clothes and into the thin mattress.

He walks to her, takes in the surroundings.
Then he fills a glass and kneels at the edge of the bed.

His mind if filled, blank.
How has he stumbled into such a truncated world.
He remember’s his mother, she passed away moons ago.
Raajan, his father would be alone at home tonight.
Giant globe eyes, reflecting in the darkness. Somehow finding a twinkle from the lights outside, and above in the heavens. He should visit them.

He reaches out to pat her.
She isn’t present.
No, she might register.
He clasps her shoulder.
Gives her a hug with his hand.
He doesn’t know.
Just doesn’t.
Why is he here, going this far.
Who is this woman.

So he crosses his legs and whispers to her softly.
An indian story, told to each child in the cot.
It speaks of the importance of feeding the child.
Growing strong, running free and laughing.
Then a child from the far cities comes into town;
He is blind.
The healer of the city, greets the boy like a dog infested with rabies.

He is strung up. -the boy-
He is washed. Whipped. then a fire is lit.
The old healer. Steps up onto the dais.
Ruffles the boys hair and steps into the newly lit fire.
There is a flash, blinding to all. Except the boy.
He sees the man, step through and ebony coloured rift,
It closes in a brilliant hue of azure and green.
The new colour of the boys eyes.

In the sect of punjab, where language tends to flow and rhyme in its own way,
this rattle and hum of language, settles the woman from her quaking.
In her mind she was swimming in a forest river.
But the rushing around has stopped.
She sees a lake before her.
She opens her yellow eyes,
Dehydrated, sunken.
And there is a man. Squat and smiling.
He bows with his eyes.
Dramatically he nods his head and she feels a connection.

She doesn’t ask who, why or where they are.
She just smiles her split lips sleepily and stretches into a soaking, slumber.

He admonished her with his eyes.
This exalted beauty.
Figure hugging shirt, he covers with a sarong like fabric.
That rested over a nearby chair back.
He reaches into his pocket.
Withdrawing a clove, it passes his lips and rests in the bottom corner of his mouth, between lips and teeth. The sensation and smell are subtle and reminiscent of other times.
She breaths heavily now.

Water resting between his knees.
He kneels.
Wondering.
Turing the weight of time over in his mind.
He wonders at her story; what is next for her.
How is it that she will end up.
Why was he chosen for this.

He stands, shaken.
Abruptly has pats his knees, puts back the watch and vacates the hotel room.
On his way to see his father, he catches his bluey green eyes in a reflection of a parking meter top. He squints and smiles at himself and his thoughts of the day.
What a pretty lady.

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