There be lightning outside, and a growl of thunder followed by a mouthful of semi-expensive white wine. The one with the image of the devil on the label. Streets illuminate, and for a second, night becomes day. Among the trees, the eyes of the animals can be seen, only to quietly recede. The TV throws… Read more

She got these marks on her arms. Little ones. Little scratches like those you get from bared cat claws, but ain’t no cat done these. These done by glass, maybe scissor. Could be she dragged the instrument over that pale flesh cause she was bored. Could be she wanted to fight pain with pain. Or… Read more

I’m hanging around on some street. It’s hot, balmy, and when I close my eyes, I can tell she’s nearby. I can’t see her, but I can feel her. I always feel her. Each beat of her heart mirrors my own, and just like that, I clap my hands and stand on the tips of… Read more

Sun floods the streets of the town and there’s music and laughter and skinny white guys with their tops off showing shit tattoos and women squeezing out as much flesh from diminishing clothes as they possibly can but flesh is flesh no more no less what’s sexy to me is a mind that can bring… Read more

That scent of hers as she skips around it’s like donuts and fields of corn that sway in the breeze beneath a sky of milk white teeth and when she closes her eyes she becomes the corn and how she sways and how the sun becomes her and even though she’s broken and sometimes dead… Read more

Behind my eyes, she’s got these eyes of her own. These brown eyes like Geena Davis in Cronenberg’s The Fly and how they know and how they glow. As a line from one of Shakespeare’s sonnets leaves my mouth, she slides down her stockings sat perched on the foot of her bed. Those legs, those… Read more

Some TV and a hot dog washed down with Cherry Coke followed by images of a car crash on the M1 that pave the way for daydreams involving alluring women with supple hips slithering upon hot white sand and then it’s stray dogs burning on the streets of Moscow and for hours I’m just sat… Read more

A gust of wind blows her down to the river, and there, among the flowers and trees, she experiences a measure of peace that makes her feel light on her feet. Rummaging through her bag, she pulls out a few slices of bread wrapped in kitchen roll. Breaking the bread into pieces, she kneels down… Read more

Kids just kids just blood red gums and spit and cum and corked white wine and shaved hairs that tickle my tongue and the tips of my fingers and there’s a taxi outside but she’s not ready cause she’s bleeding yeah she’s bleeding it’s that time and I’m looking down at my junk which is… Read more

Cold water then it warms a little. Cold tiles beneath her feet like the moon and all those rocks that fly through space without us ever knowing their fate. She stands on tiptoes and looks through the window at the street below. It’s chilly and sunny and smells like coffee. The shower takes an age… Read more