Doggerland I

While lost one night we stumbled into

Doggerland, that nocturnal world of

exhibition and stranger-sex and my

instinct was to reverse but you said “No,

wait!” so we watched the

courtesy lights wink on and off, the

men flitting like moths to

someone else’s flame where

now and then a woman would

emerge from her cocoon to

kneel or bend or bow before some

barely exposed tumescence, and

one by one the men falling away,

burnt or empty, as more arrived—one

so close I felt your eyes on his

phallus, smelt your pheromones, saw your

left hand disappear beneath your

dress, your right reach towards the

light that would lead us into the

night of Doggerland.