Pull ~ rene

The vines were connected to fat bulls running towards the red as much as I remember

of the hours penetrating what we held back there is no way back I think happily  as the shore has nothing for us anymore

as we swim out into the sea our lungs become complete with water

a feeling between us slim membranous thick and impossible we slice apart as we turn into one reason walking away from any place that isn’t here

the time flows well as the instant flows well that reason we rise into war amongst that heard we drive against

laying back making melody and style our best and only weapon

our hands link so we are unable to fall

no grip holding any more reason than our own

neither will it ever

we drink coffee touching each other lightly in the first parts of the day

yesterday’s hangover gone

we two

ready for this day of work

that beast ready to die and play


we wrap our fingers around each other’s palms pulling ourselves forward for this day

for this always changing reason.


is Raoul Moat in a boat. His first words were ‘Newky Brown’. As well as being our most prolific writer, René also creates graphic art, paintings and screenplays.

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