"What reconciles me to my own death more than anything else is the image of a place; a place where your bones and mine are buried, thrown, uncovered, together. They are strewn there pell-mell. One of your ribs leans against my skull. A metacarpal of my left hand lies inside your pelvis. (Against my broken ribs your breast like a flower.) The ( Read more... )

I want the hand to kill the fly.

I want your body to consume me.

I want to skin you alive.

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

I want to have sex to your noise.

( Read more... )

Go live in your later. Leave me with my now.

( Read more... )