The Holiday I Hoped We Would Have

I thought,

for a moment,

on the Ferris wheel,

above a sea you’d never seen,

in the ever moving, ever evolving flesh,

that we would be immortalised.

A puke inducing public display of affection,

that made tourist children cover their eyes,

and parents sigh,

with nostalgia, along with the knowledge that they’d later have to explain,

about birds,

bees,

and public decency.

It was just a kiss.

Just a kiss,

that I had canonised,

devising every detail,

in my daydreams,

marking it in pencil,

on my calendar,

moving the date every now and again,

until,

one day,

I put down my pencil,

and put the kiss out of its misery,

behind the shed.

One bullet.

One tear.