Posted in * by a1icey on January 5, 2009

“she comes to us at night, and it is the old house on bayard street on the other half of a dying city, the world i don’t walk in anymore because in this world i walk alone, the only man i have ever come close to loving. i wake up suddenly from the twisted pinners and the glassware and am aware that she is dressed in his clothes and my hand goes to my side where my knife would be but he is an old friend and knows my reactions even before i do, and it’s gone. i am unarmed and well aware enough of what has happened. we take turns kissing her, first me, then himself, and she smokes another cigarette before tumbling into bed, dragging my trousers down around my ankles even as he pulls her unders away from behind. i can feel him pumping through her even as i am inside of her. she poses for me when i am tired and kissing him through his beard. he has put on weight since korea and the seven years since we last found ourselves with a girl between us. she comes three times like firecrackers going off and i have my hands in her hair and she is saying my name in time to his thrusts, christopher, christopher, christopher and my friend looks at me like i am a hypnotist when all i am is sad, needing to be alone but desperate for humanities touch. and it is like something that is uncontrollable, this pierced decorum, this demon strum of rippling butterflies wings. over and over again. in out up down. happy new year. happy new year. an orgy to the matterborn.”


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