When she exhales looking up at the passing meteor shower, she thinks of each shooting star as someone she’s loved. Some are faint and barely there at all, while others shine bright and own the sky. I’m not sure where I would fit on this cosmic scale. Could be I’m a mere speck, almost invisible… Read more

When she slides off her clothes and lies next to me, I squeeze a mole on her belly and she calls me names. Dirty names. Filthy names. She calls me a smelly fuck because I refuse to wash on our days off from work or even change my clothes. My armpits have a tangy air… Read more

I’m falling into the road, and she’s dancing on the thin ice of life. I can smell so many memories and scents, each one as intoxicating as the wine and whiskey that sweat out of me as the parade passes through streets we both love and hate. One minute we’re on the top of a… Read more

In her handbag, she’s got this pocket-sized map of the world. She leafs through it from time to time looking at all the places she’ll never get to visit. It makes her sad, but she keeps such grief to herself. Also in her bag, there are the small stones she collects at random named after… Read more

In a room with the curtains drawn, she turns her back on me and curls into a ball. When I put my arm around her, I want to give her my words, but I’m frightened by what’s inside. So I keep quiet. She waits and waits, but there’s nothing from my mouth save for the… Read more

She breathes in as deep as she can, and when she exhales several seconds later, out comes a mist of stars that wraps itself around her like the arms of a lover. The road that carries her is a river and an arrow and a song that bubbles and hisses in the bellies of the… Read more

  Don’t fall in love. Fall in love. Give up smoking then light a cigarette while standing on a balcony looking out at the end of the world. The death of everyone is so pretty. It soothes our bastard hearts and gives us the strength to carry on. It makes us laugh when we’re all… Read more

  All around, you see and taste the lives of other people you won’t ever come close to. With your hands in your pockets breathing in mouthfuls of dead air, you look at the ground because to look at the sky means questions and you don’t have the answers so what’s the point. Sometimes you… Read more

  Empty beer cans and the ghost of Nietzsche as I eye up a fine set of legs adorned in black tights. They cross then uncross, each motion pulling me in until saliva drips from my open lips so it dribbles down my chin like the weirdo I am. Those cans, they kick around the… Read more

  The stink of hearts that beat to the wrong beat. The stink of minds that wander to the wrong kinds of shore. Body parts. Bodies. Limbs and fingers and teeth and toes that wriggle and tickle behind eyes that should know better. All things come, and all things go. Doors. So many doors. Days.… Read more