Sex
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Made another video. Come follow me on a trip down memory lane where I discuss the importance of keeping the past alive. There’s talk about working in a pub, child killers, and the death of a drug addict, of which I am neither. I also read two pieces from the second volume of A… Read more
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In these quiet hours, your chest rises and falls. In these hours you’ll never know, your nostrils flare as you kick your bare feet against my shins. Smoking my cigarettes, I just sit there watching you thinking about how natural you are compared to all the rest, and how much I would like to crawl inside of… Read more
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Light my cigarette and then your own, and then maybe call in sick so we can spend the afternoon in bed together reading dog-eared books while watching vintage pornography on your laptop. The shadows that lurk on the streets outside, they make us feel as if we’re inseparable. They make us feel almost as if we’re complete.… Read more
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Twitching your nose, you smell burger vans serving up endless portions of cheesy chips as leaves crunch beneath your worn pair of Dr. Martens. With Mogwai blaring on your headphones so loud and desolate and magnificent that you know you’ll end up crying if you don’t lower the volume, you roll a cigarette as those around… Read more
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We could go night swimming, and I could hold you in my arms and together we’d sink beneath the surface, and such a thing would make us feel as natural as we could ever wish. We could be cinnamon lovers skirting the edges of time or arguing lovers outside fast food joints saying words each hope… Read more
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There’s electricity in the way we touch. Not the kind they write about in poems. No, the electricity we share is perverse and sadistic. It’s the sort that fries small children who wander onto train tracks in search of adventure. The kinda shit that electrocutes racoons and drunkards that climb power masts in an attempt… Read more
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Made a video. A video of digressions. From a fear of spiders and flying, to visits to childhood swimming pools and the place where Jesus was born. There’s also talk about unrequited love, being rubbish with women, and my lacklustre beard and the subsequent rage it’s instilled in me. I sniff a new book… Read more
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Gravestones and shaking hands and the music of ages that kiss your lips as you stand there waiting for the taxi to take you away from the stench of disinfectant and decay. Illness and stranded lives and neglected dogs hiding in a block of deserted garages overgrown with weeds and stained with ancient oil… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 