Author S. K. Nicholas

As you roll with one eye on the uncrossing of her legs, my zygomatic arch throbs as if touched for the very first time. Leaves of rain lodged in the back of your throat, you light a cigarette as the hand of god traces your love upon the flesh of her belly. Lonely nights in the underpass. Nature stunted, she seeks refuge in the skyscrapers that collapse on the edges of despair. Windswept lovers breaking into pet stores. Tubes and epidurals to soften the blow of blown out brains. Eat sushi and you’ll be okay. Paint yourself topless, and my breath will quicken with every mouthful. Synapse sensations as you lean forward and push out your breasts. Winter reigns solemn hearts as the light bulb sways in the draft that creeps beneath the bedroom door. Ugly junk food girl. Sit down and wait your turn while the cheapened ones give it their all. All doe-eyed and empty, they loosen the walls of doubt in the back of your worn out head. Sleep sometimes, but only when the bottle runs dry. She sinks her teeth in just like her mum; only it’s not as much fun. Just like everyone else, you yearn only to be like the rest. A sea of banal thoughts with white-teethed blowjobs and blood-red gums to ease your passage. This might be the entrance to hell, or it could just be the early hours when nothing makes sense. Decide for me. I’m too tired to think, all I want is to cocoon myself with some cute brunette without having to move a muscle as my skin drips down the plug hole. Suicide high and clotted cream. Tired so tired as we shift from one diabolical phase to the next.