Seeing you, I always have novelty in mind.

Outside my window, the street was lit by cars going somewhere fast. There were others, too, going nowhere with no place in mind. The inside was as dark. And the only way our faces showed up in the black air was by the film advancing. I pulled the sheets over my head, whispering, come find me. You listened, touching my toes first, my lips last. Underneath the bedding, we fell asleep to Rosemary’s Baby. I woke with novelty still in mind. And smelt the same smells, as if the night hadn’t touched us. My citrus fingers, your taffy mouth of candy-cane. We certainly indulged in our addictions. And remained close because of our differences. Like apples and oranges. We smiled, opening our eyes to light and the television still on. “Should we name her Clementine?” Fingers felt beneath your shirt—the shirt—I was wearing. “Only if she’s a red head and grows up to be a real fox.” I laughed, pulling at your black beard, “Page it is.” This is how we begin our mornings. Canopied in purity. 

You knew I’d been waiting and wondered if there was someplace I wanted to go. “Let’s drive nowhere.” “Come on, today is special.” “Yes and no. There’s a chance nothing will come of it.” “And there’s a chance you’re being too hard on yourself, like always.” “Nerves…reality.” “We’re going for a ride.” 

I swore I’d be in no rush. Today. And, yes, and during the new year. It was an impossible promise though. Believe me, I’m always out of time. 

Even with helmets on, we rode in style. Water bottles filled with champagne. Even with nowhere in mind, we knew what we wanted. We biked through Snapper Creak with the morning still on us. I am yours and I don’t need anyone to know. You ask how I’m feeling and I say, happy, happy we’re already ahead of the afternoon.