How many lovers has it been? How many dreams have ended when they found out what she was really like? I make my excuses while she takes a shower and head back to mine. She howls and screeches but I’m far too drunk to take any notice. It’s been thirteen years since my dog… Read more

  There’s a porno magazine filled with hundreds of earwigs. When you shake the pages they fall out and blow in the wind like confetti. Humming Pink Moon to yourself while admiring the images of so many nude women, you wonder what it would’ve been like to have kissed the lips of Nick Drake. I’m… Read more

  How long can you wait? How much time are you prepared to spend earning your wings? She doesn’t know, which is why her days are spent being numb. She drinks. She fucks. She swallows a tablet here and there to take her mind off things, but it never seems to work. Between the sheets,… Read more

  While sleeping, she dips her toes into pools of shimmering oil. While breathing, she slips between layers and visits every lover that’s had her right where they wanted. Each one left his mark, and each one is now but a shadow by the side of the road. Squeezing tight her eyes, she sees the… Read more

  You lose, and yet you win. You collapse but come together a different entity entirely. Take hold of my hand and let me pull you into my dream. Speak a sentence that gets beneath my skin and say something that will make this cold heart of mine beat like it used to. Listen to… Read more

    Whenever my eyes rest upon her curves the urge to lower myself is beyond my control. She’s in bloom. She’s a shrew that can’t be tamed and whenever she’s with another it makes me want to taste her that little bit more. We walk and dance and spin and spit and kiss and… Read more

  There’s a memory of me submerged in the bath during the weeks of my breakdown. Motionless for the best part of an hour, the water was slowly turning cold, but it didn’t seem to matter that much. Guilt is a terrible thing, and yet, in the long run, I guess it set me free… Read more

  Feed me Ritalin as if they were smarties, and then tuck me into bed as my hands shake from a lack of alcohol. Kiss me on the forehead and say it will blow over, then read me a story from the local newspaper about a priest who’s been stabbed in the throat and urinated… Read more

  Suspicions of destiny and wordless intuition regarding the shape of your hips. In the fog by the lake, children play on thin ice, and even though they might fall through, it’s OK, because the angels above are watching over them. On a tree by the bridge, the one where your sister once scrawled crude… Read more