In the heat of a summers evening, my eyes watch a foul-mouthed temptress undress before a burning sun. Resting on the horizon, it boils upon her shoulder something cute. Sucking on a cigarette, I imagine what it would be like to take her amidst a field of grass and flowers. She reeks of wonder and creation. The spirals in her hair, they tumble madly like a mass of snakes. Blowing towards me in the breeze that comes through the window, they hiss my name. She’s not there, and nor am I. We’re a long time dead, existing forever out of time. Destined to be doomed lovers, our hearts were chained together in the first seconds of the birth of the universe. Born from chaos, we crave destruction and darkness. It’s in our cruel, terrible hearts. It’s what sets us apart, from all the dreadful fuckers that poison the air we gasp for in the throes of our signature act. Bodies everywhere you look. Existing within every layer of our minds. They break as I do my thing. My throat on fire, I imagine what it would be like to have her kneeling before me. My fingers lifting her chin up, I’ll tell her that our sex is key to far more than the pleasure of the flesh. Perception, flowing through our veins and tasting like honey upon her tongue. We’re physical mysteries, like moths to the flame. Resting her hands on my chest, I place mine on top and look up at the ceiling. I’m a cruel machine, and she’s the oil that keeps me pumping. A perfect storm. A war that never ends. We feed on young blood, so greedy to be alive when all around us, death holds sway. People mean little to me. I’m too self-obsessed to care about others. My visceral is of utmost importance. I’m a selfish lover, and my days are spent within my head, searching for secrets that always elude me. Somewhere in the distance, wind chimes dangle in the wind. They sing songs of yesterday. A natural horror. Organic ghosts, dancing just out of reach. There’s something that I can’t quite put my finger on. Something invisible, but always there. It appears to me in my dreams but leaves me when I wake. I drink to weaken the walls of my mind, to try and snatch at it, but it never works. There’s something missing from my life, but I don’t know what. Lovers and years come and go, yet it remains, a permanent entity of absence. Maybe I don’t make sense, but it’s as real to me as the air I breathe. Standing there looking out the window, the lights of far away towns shimmer so beautifully. Maybe what I’m looking for is there. Yet it could be anywhere, there’s just no way of knowing.