Read me

Read me

that's it. right there. oh yes.

the collapsible boy has changed positions. torso mashed into accordion. plans to leave his nowhere, all spent and emptied on your knee. fuck off already. listen. the hum: the buzz:  the soft vibrato, the creak of plastic when he folds in half, tongue pulled from the grave of his mouth. his hands, his hands with their four thousand holes each collecting the light from a different angle… Read More

You are walking to the train station. The ticket window is closing. The best things are hard won. At home the clothesline is sagging toward the earth, it never stops raining so your clothes are never dry. Your hands are cold and nauseous. The last thing you ate was thirteen hours ago. There are still pieces of it in your teeth. You're lost in a place you've always been. Walking around these constants that never become old friends: I think I do, I think I do, I can't, I can't, I think I do…

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Niamh left this morning. I watched her walk down the lonely lifetime we've shared. I think she's in love with me but she just can’t say it. So she leaves instead. Before she got in her car she greeted the neighbour. Typical Niamh. I tucked myself into bed with a low hum of relief. Last night Niamh told me: the thing I love most about touching you is that you never want to touch me. It’s like I don’t exist… Read More