And so I take her by the hand and show her everything and even when we close our eyes we see the deadlights and marvel at how bright they are from so far away and though we know what they contain we can’t help but reach out in the wish of touching our fate. Down stairwells and through the forest we run and as the animals float behind us we move through the valley and then by the trunk of a car in a ditch by the side of the road I tear off her dress and drink her milk until the sky cracks above our heads and the hand of God himself comes swooping down to destroy his wayward children but before he can we run once more into the trees. Into a clearing that could lead to the desert or perhaps the place where Lucifer landed after being cast out from heaven, we come across a cage containing eight blindfolded men. Holding her in my arms in the safety of shadow, we watch in awe as one by one the men are lead out and made to kneel on a patch of land consisting of grass and dirt and the feathers of a brightly coloured bird like those of a peacock but not quite. Their blindfolds removed, the sweat trickles down their flesh as the executioner raises his blade and brings it down in one fell swoop. Over and over it happens, and as the earth is stained read and the bodies placed in a line with their severed heads resting between tender shoulder blades, my hands move beneath her top and up to her breasts where I tweak her nipples even though I know it’s in bad taste but I can’t help it because she is life and she makes me feel alive. There’s arterial spray. There’s the notion of existence. There’s the moment when their eyes keep moving in their skulls even though their heads are detached from their bodies and yet above everything I want to know what it feels like; I need to understand what the difference is between us and them. Pushing her against a tree she bites my neck. Sinking her teeth in, I let her bite some more. Open mouthed, I close my eyes and see the deadlights again. Blacker than the bible, they call to meย in ways I never thought possible.

13 replies »

  1. When I read you I am caught in the scene, a spectator in a dream that morphs to a nightmare and back into a dream, you’ve got the magic.

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