Oct 2016
The intimacy of a naked skyline had always been a bit too much for the girl who had grown up tracing her thoughts on the moist windows of skyscrapers that tore through the emptiness of open skies and lonely hearts. The city would always be her first lover, the sea winds her first kiss, and the inhuman slums her first heartbreak - this wasn't your ordinary girl.
The arch of the Sydney harbour bridge reminds me of how her back arched the first time I kissed her neck and the horizon melted right in front of my eyes. The bridge's arch might be a testament to human civilization, but hers is the reason why you can someday justify the pain of your first heartbreak to your daughter as she breaks down before her high school prom. The bridge's arch might stand tall against the trials of time, but hers is the reason why you will see your past flicker in the flames fanned on every bonfire night.
But before you fall in love with the arch and wish bridges could heal all distances, you need to know there are some that even the best and the most beautiful can't.
You know, sitting on the docks of Port Jackson reminds me how I was born in the small port town of an insignificant island and I had grown up with more sand in my slippers than tongue in my cheek. Everytime you swing your legs from the edges of the dock to feel the spray of the recurring waves on your naked calves, the waves seem to sing about how they taught me never to give up on a shoreline, no matter how close or distant its breath on your face.
Its funny how I never ended up finding that Italian place by the harbour where I taught you how to soak in the flavour of a single malt scotch while you taught me how to soak in the flavour of life. Its funny because you always wanted me to find us that spot, in case we wanted to relive the mistakes we made that night.
But then I guess,
There are some mistakes, you are not allowed to make twice.
The sun setting on the city still looks beautiful from the edges of the harbour each day,
But it makes me wish we had stayed behind long enough to see the sun rise from underneath the sea.
The arch of the Sydney harbour bridge reminds me of how her back arched the first time I kissed her neck and the horizon melted right in front of my eyes. The bridge's arch might be a testament to human civilization, but hers is the reason why you can someday justify the pain of your first heartbreak to your daughter as she breaks down before her high school prom. The bridge's arch might stand tall against the trials of time, but hers is the reason why you will see your past flicker in the flames fanned on every bonfire night.
But before you fall in love with the arch and wish bridges could heal all distances, you need to know there are some that even the best and the most beautiful can't.
You know, sitting on the docks of Port Jackson reminds me how I was born in the small port town of an insignificant island and I had grown up with more sand in my slippers than tongue in my cheek. Everytime you swing your legs from the edges of the dock to feel the spray of the recurring waves on your naked calves, the waves seem to sing about how they taught me never to give up on a shoreline, no matter how close or distant its breath on your face.
Its funny how I never ended up finding that Italian place by the harbour where I taught you how to soak in the flavour of a single malt scotch while you taught me how to soak in the flavour of life. Its funny because you always wanted me to find us that spot, in case we wanted to relive the mistakes we made that night.
But then I guess,
There are some mistakes, you are not allowed to make twice.
The sun setting on the city still looks beautiful from the edges of the harbour each day,
But it makes me wish we had stayed behind long enough to see the sun rise from underneath the sea.
