Love
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Strands of hair. Women. Bleeding gums. Lost satellites that keep drifting further into the unknown reaches of the universe. Is it still Sunday in the mouth of a wormhole? Does love still exist on the event horizon of a black hole? When you curl into a ball and wish your life away, do you… Read more
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Nude bodies foaming at the mouth as bombs drop at our feet creating patterns in the rubble that resemble flowering na-na’s. Shiny teeth ready to sink in as we move through the streets and subways in search of what makes us tick. Is it the written word, or the electricity that surges through our… Read more
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An ex-lover reclines on a bed we once made love upon. Lifting up her skirt, she slides down her panties and shows me her sex. It’s weapon; a knife in the belly, and a bullet between the eyes that devours my heart in the time it takes to slice the face of a thief.… Read more
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The trees are the same as the streets and the same as all those faces that gulp for air while pretending this is what we hoped for when we were children. There were no wars back in our infancy, only cartoons and toys and the promise of weekends playing computer games drinking Coke. The… Read more
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We drink and sink and rise and flow and spin around the sun and then we kiss and even though it might not be love, because we feel it, that somehow seems enough. If it comes from the guts, then it’s perfect, and although it isn’t pretty, it’s beautiful because it makes us shiver… Read more
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She drinks a bottle of milk to ease her stomach pains while getting through a packet of Reds. Y’know, the one’s Jack Torrence smoked in The Shining? It’s a dirty habit as are my frequent trips to the bathroom where I abuse myself under the pretence of suffering from a severe bout of diarrhoea.… Read more
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Dressing gowns soaked with rain. Cigarettes that slip and twist and fall from skinny fingers that should know better. The smell of what it is to be human- it makes me horny and it makes me sad. On the kerb, there’s a vehicle with its engine running that’s been parked there for the best… Read more
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Supermarkets. Cafes. Camden. London Zoo. The hum of her uterus and the undeniable song it sings to me when I’m sleeping. Warehouses. Garden centres. Corner shops opposite the petrol station that sells those energy drinks that taste like the breastmilk of a Greek goddess. There’s a telephone booth I stand within to light my… Read more
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When I come crawling back with blood on my fingers, will you still want to see me? When you read the words that flow from my mind at 2 am when everyone else is gone, will you still want to take me in your arms? We could be together, but these feelings just won’t… Read more
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Colt 45. Blonde Mona Lisa. A bottle of Australian white to help ease the passage from one state to the next. From painter to lover, lover to writer. Girl. Lizard. Secreter. You roll a smoke and say you’re fine but how can you be fine when your man gets bored of what you’ve got to… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 