Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Writing

  • Seed Is the Key

    “I want you to come on that man’s head,” she says. Open-mouthed while imagining what it would be like to play on the slide in my grandparents’ old garden again, I don’t hear her words. Well, I do, but they don’t register. “Did you hear me?” This time the words resonate. It takes a few… Read more

  • Smeared Love

    Not vodka but pop. Neither cigarettes nor cigars, but rolled up post-it notes soggy after being chewed by soft, childish lips. Not the lips of the kids I went to school with, though. They’re all old now—old like forgotten oranges in a Christmas stocking—one that’s been tucked away for several months in a basement belonging… Read more

  • Bones Turn to Glue

    Stroking me off with magical fingers that had her once touted as a child prodigy on the piano, I grind my teeth as she takes me to the precipice of a place she’s taken me so many times before. Shaking as the ground swirls beneath me, I hold onto the branch above with the tips… Read more

  • Temper

    Giggling at me as she holds my life in her hands, she opens her mouth and faces the ever-growing starry sky with the look of a naughty kid on her lips. There are tears in her eyes the same as there are in mine. I can see the fillings in her teeth, and the missing… Read more

  • When I Was a Kid

    The school from my childhood is now gone, along with most other places I roamed. On the horizon, though, in this light, and in this time, I can see them quite clearly. I know they’re not really there, but as the tingle in my bones grows, and the ringing in my ears reaches a crescendo,… Read more

  • Playground Love

    The words of my mother shift from a wish for me to rise to a desire to see me become like the trees, and as she sings, Meeko begins to sing, too. Their voices entwine to become one, and as Meeko masturbates me into a state of spiritual bliss, I feel the kiss of mother… Read more

  • Cold so Cold

    Hot coffee, a slice of toast, and a cigarette that drips from fingers that only last night danced across a belly full of seed. Me mine and yours. Have you ever seen Jaws 2? Have you ever seen a guy sprawled out on a Brazilian sidewalk with his brains leaking from a hole in his… Read more

  • Slumber of Sleep

    Tilting back my head, I see from the side of my eye a part of the town of which I haven’t stepped foot in for years. Not since I was that kooky child emerging from the bars of his womb-like crib. The streets remain the same, as do the buildings, but times have changed. I… Read more

  • Crib

    It’s the knowledge that I will one day return to dust that makes the lust in my bones flourish. How could anyone not be amazed that out of nothing comes the ability to be at the mercy of the pleasures of pleasure? It’s beyond me. It’s dumbfounded my tiny mind ever since I was a… Read more

  • Blank Spaces

    On a path in a town with many buildings are a series of caves of which I once visited in my youth. The caves were connected by a series of narrow tunnels. It was cold, and I was hormonal. The caves were of significant, historical value. The only lasting impression they had on me was… Read more