from between your thighs
lovely milk-mustache
6-word story
11 Saturday Apr 2015
11 Saturday Apr 2015
from between your thighs
lovely milk-mustache
10 Friday Apr 2015
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honey, I know
something about
talking with ghosts
10 Friday Apr 2015
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loop after loop swim to the outer edge
10 Friday Apr 2015
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I can’t listen to you. I can’t listen to your voice. It’s as though I’d drunk a bottle of anise and fallen asleep wrapped in a quilt of roses. It pulls me along – and I know I’m drowning – but I go on down.
10 Friday Apr 2015
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The taste of death is upon my lips. I feel something that is not of this earth.
10 Friday Apr 2015
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3000 years and my mama still kicks yo ass sucka, Babylonian prayer, child of lilith, Lilith of the desert, quote unquote
… thou Lilith of the desert, thou hag, thou ghoul … naked art thou sent forth, unclad, with hair disheveled, and streaming down your back.
10 Friday Apr 2015
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ad noctum
into darkness
my mission
somehow
changed
10 Friday Apr 2015
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De cathedra quotiens surgis — jam
saepe notavi — pedicant miserae, Lesbia, te tunicae … sic
constringuntur gemina Symplegade culi et nimias intrant Cyaneasque
natis.
“I’ve noticed when you get up from
the couch you’ve been assfucked, Lesbia, by your wretched skirts.
Your skirts are caught between your massive cheeks as big as two
Gibraltars — it’ll be a tight fit.”
— Martial, «Epigrams
XI.99»
10 Friday Apr 2015
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I had been reared to believe that xenomorphs were indomitable and all but impossible to kill … that they inevitably destroyed any other life-form that they came across; that they were beyond comprehension … yet here I am, surviving among you all … learning your secrets.
10 Friday Apr 2015
raindrops dripping from the eaves your lover pulls out