Roller Derby Drives in The Rain

I want to rollerblade around an empty aquarium
and date a nerdy, shy girl who would stay in on sunny days
and adventure out on the rainiest of them,
explore ruins and burnt-to-foundation church naves,
wrestle into comfortable spooning positions in separate sleeping bags in the middle of fucking nowhere: center of everything and anything,
population us two;
we'd make plans for only rainy days, march around empty cities
and towns and back alley villages seeing what was what and who was there,
collecting tables and chairs and cutlery and decanters and rugs and fruit bowls and beds for the kids, another washing machine because this one's packed in;
we'd save futures and possibilities for rainy day drives,
allude to conclusions before they were premises all before an elevens' somewhere in Scotland, the dog outside wet and wanting cake:
I want to rollerblade around empty aquariums with you holding hands, drifting apart and being pulled back together again
right next to the manta-rays back-lit in blue,
the floor eternal black, no lighting but fish scale bulbs through the thick safety glass:
is that too much to ask?