Is Chantal bronze?
That makes me - what?
Lost wax?
Bodies are clay,
albeit they've
been washed,
and glazed, and fired.
Is love smoke?
That makes me fire. If water,
land. If sea,
I am the sky.
I pulled back the sleeve that covered her face.
'You remind me of a fairy-tale princess!' I said.
She looked up with a start.
'You are dreadful!' she said, propping herself up. 'Waking people up like that so thoughtlessly!'
I remember being struck by the attractive way her face suddenly flushed. Someone very beautiful can look even more beautiful on occasion.
- Diary of Lady Murasaki
Went for a swim in the icy cold waters of Okains Bay to cool down a bit after playing with C's pussy through her bikini panties. Water straight from Antarctica, through the empty leagues of the South Pacific. Water turquoise-blue against the tawny lion-sand colour of the hills. I was very cold when I returned & Chantal proceeded to warm me up by playing with my cock with her hand while I pulled down my shirt to hide this activity from prying eyes. Luckily, the beach is vast & the cars and people were some distance off. I fingered her till she came, but was left tumescent when a red car pulled up in front of us. A boy got out and started dancing around in the sand with admirable unselfconsciousness.
Heat-shimmer now between us and the hills. One would scarcely imagine the scene had ever been different: single sail, three lines or blocks or areas of green-blue sea, brown, turquoise, ultramarine, one fat man paddling, another sitting in white towelling hat to read, three gazing out to sea - Chantal's head on my knees as she reads The Alexandria Quartet: "Alexandria, the capital of memory."
©Jack Ross