imaginary cities: feli —

City of riotous dance halls and movies that never end. I’m driving down an expressway lined with newly-planted palm trees in a hire car, the rental on which never seems to end. The harbour twinkles in the sunset and I never end. On the radio, they’ve jacked into 1979 and it’s terminal and it never ends. The road is a smooth macadam and the traffic islands are painted black and white and all the signs point to exits that never end. Red dust flies from the kerbside and I’m drinking from a bottle of water that never ends. You’re in the passenger seat, we’re on our first date and we laugh at something so hard it never ends. I’m pushing the button that rolls down the window and it never ends. The breeze never ends. The sunset never ends. We drive to the lagoon and get out and swim and it never ends. Our kiss never ends. I pull out the rubber band holding your hair back and it never ends. The look in your eyes as you lower your sunglasses never ends either. We dance a long, slow dance and spin in a circle that (obviously) never ends. My sweat never ends. Your lips never end. Our visas will never expire. The song of the crickets never ends though I wish it would. We fashion a bed out of sand on the beach and the scraping of the sand against our skin never ends. It’s neverending. The sky never ends. The stars never end. The comets never end. I draw constellations on your skin and they never end. You smile and it feels like the world should never have to end. Your legs never end. My training never ends. The juice never ends. The friction never ends. The cries never end. We turn into animals and run helter-skelter down the beach, crashing into waves that never end. Your breasts are moons that never end. My flame is a fire that never goes out. Your touch never ends. The climax never ends. The plot, in disarray, tries to find a way not to end. The untangling of limbs never ends. The separation never ends. The goodbyes never end. When you’ve endlessly left the loneliness never ends. The flight never ends. The letters you send me never end. Our reunion plans never end. The sickness never ends. The radio is still playing that song we knew would never end. The ending never ends. You never end. You never will. You never. You.


About the author

Davey Dreamnation (1972–?) is an Australalian musician, vocalist, pirate and record-label owner who now lives 'in the third person'.

View his full biography.

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