In some store as it pisses down with rain, you wander over to the magazines and flip through the pages of one showing all the latest movies on at the cinema. We could go see a flick later I guess. For now, though, I’m searching for something that has no name. In the morning after we woke it was calling to me from within your belly, but now it’s someplace else. Not fixed nor permanent, it shifts around town leading us on a wild goose chase, and whenever I get close, I find myself on the verge of some out-of-body experience. It’s something to do with memories and time, and how they aren’t mere echoes but alive. Turning to look at me, you lower the magazine as I stumble around with my hands held out as if searching for a light switch in a darkened room. Calling my name, I flinch but don’t respond. The guy stood at the cash register frowns before looking over to you for some kind of explanation. Shrugging your shoulders, you tell him one of my contact lenses has fallen out. The guy squints at you not convinced but deems me to be harmless enough and goes back to his newspaper. Walking over to me, you put your hand on the back of my head and press my face into the damp cotton of your coat. From inside of you I can hear birdsong and the crashing of waves. Mixed together with the music that seems to be coming from behind a fridge containing cans of Coke and Dr Pepper, I get so dizzy I fall to my knees. Pushing my face into your crotch, I bite the tight fabric of your jeans along with the pair of panties you’re wearing beneath. Chewing you like a dog would a bone, your slide your fingers through my hair as I breathe in your scent, and as you lean your head back thinking of God, I place both hands on your hips and see myself as an animal in a forest, rushing through the trees on its way someplace that’s been calling to me ever since I was a kid.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US