Downward mouth. King cigarette. Night as black as sin, and as holy as crushed mascara beneath searching thumbs caked in grease. Under a blanket of neon darkness, I think about the fading outlines of past lovers while attempting entry into a building that may or may not be real. I mean, yeah, it’s real, but I can’t quite decide whether it’s over here or over there. Sipping my coffee, I scratch my beard as those on the train lose their form. Yesterday I was working in the old bookstore, drinking corked wine while pinching my nose as the days rolled by without question. Today, I’m a kid on his first day of a new school term, dressed in fresh clothing and wide-eyed with optimism at all the adventures that await. Listening to the wind as it blows through the window, the music from a broken harmonica tickles my exposed skin. I’m a grown man, but also a kid in the crib, wishing for something to show me the way. To a place. To a feeling. To a moment in time that leaves me free from that which I don’t believe in.

X and I: A Novel and A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon UK

X and I: A Novel and A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon US