The girls do not need emotion, because if it is concrete, and you stuff it into their weak and feeble innards, they will cave in with the weight of knowing their dreams have ended, that they are no more than pale, underfed motes of could-haves well hidden in a world that pretends.

Ah! What could be more perfect than raindrops on a nose? -a nose ancient kings would have locked into glass jars in the coldest corners of a tomb, raindrops that only look round because the world is a kaleidoscope, and they are too tiny to have edges. I'm trying to lick the water off your face with the moist, warm side of my thumb, and it tastes ( Read more... )

There is a chant on the inside of my mouth, and I used to think it was Arabic, because Arabic is the only language that's old enough to have more than five hundred words for dream. But that's not true, the chant is not Arabic, because the words I speak don't coil around my head like a skanky whiff of opiates, nor can I charm my way into slacks of ( Read more... )

Sometimes, on noisy, messy days, we are clocks. Our tongues shoot out every hour and deep ding dongs resonate from the base of out throats. This makes tourists queasy, not because our mouths are wide, blue and lacquered, but because it is unnerving to be regularly cleansed by the punctual wave of time ( Read more... )

A short tongue for pretty ones:

( yes we are either here, there or everywhere. )

Specimen: Kite Xu

Species: Homo Sapiens SickusLife cycle: Feeds upon a variety of artificial goods such as instant noodles, instant macaroni and occasionally pasta and omelettes. Never reproduces. Expected to live to 80. (specimen dying at 16, though ( Read more... )

( pretty boring shit )

I am listening to trash jazz now, which is good for the heart. My heart really does need some healing now. I realise I rarely say anything about myself on this journal, so for the first time, I'll accept questions, from anyone! Ask anything, and I'll attempt to answer ( Read more... )

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