When I’m drunk, I insert things into her body. Marbles. Coins. Sunflower seeds. Stuff like that. As she’s lying there laughing at the absurdity of it all, I speak in hushed tones to her vagina. Questions, so many questions. She is my alter, she’s monolithic. When she asks what I’m doing I feed her my kiss to hush those sweet lips before returning to her real mouth. Latin. French. Hebrew. So many languages, such little time. Gripping her ankles in my greasy hands, I kneel forwards and begin. The voice that calls out isn’t my own. It growls and salivates. It howls and spits and sniffs out her truth. As the words lose their meaning and become dark energy, I bite the inside of her thighs causing her to suck in mouthfuls of dry air. Getting to my feet, I walk through walls and pass through mirrors until I’m in her childhood bedroom, the one with the red lamp and red blinds as her six-year-old self is curled up in the corner. Stroking her hair and then lifting her head from the pillow, I pick up the bundle of tissue paper that’s been carefully wrapped and placed beneath. Removing the three baby teeth within, I move back through the mirror. Denying the tooth fairy of an incredible find, I place each one upon my tongue and down a shot of vodka and swallow. Need to possess her, you see. I’ve eaten her hair and fingernail clippings. I’ve drunk her milk and swallowed her tears and now it’s time to take things to the next level. Parasitic. Translucent. A sexual pervert she claims, but I believe there’s more to my actions than mere sex. Ritualistic. Cosmic. When she comes, I place pennies on her eyes. When she tosses and turns I observe in complete silence trying to understand each motion. The unseen. The withheld. These are the things that drive me, that cause me to keep searching. I can never rest, I can never settle.
Author S. K. Nicholas 
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