We filtered through the interstices
of lamplight, pools of it,
coagulated in clots like blood,
a short ramble away from
nail bites and romantic encounters.

It was a clog dance of improbabilities,
shadowed beyond recall,
with shallow pools of recognition,
reefs of discovery,
end games of exploration.

Oh the spin and panting endeavour,
rainfall catastrophes where we were
not permitted to savour the current,
or to sweep seaward on the broad river,
borne along without struggling,
without crying out.

And how we paid,
with joints and muscles,
bones, sinews and tendons,
never mind the veins
where the insistent heart beats
were really as fragile as a wineglass.