Monday, 2 August 2010

43. dinner served

With your key i open the door to your apartment.
It's quite inside and it smells of yesterday.
In the morning, you threw my clothes at me and said, get the fuck out of here.
In the morning, I woke up on your floor, splinters into my ribs and your foot on my neck.
I can't wait for tonight.
As I listen to the tick-tock of a clock
as i listen to this silence
to your tap dripping
a car honking outside
my breath
the breath of your space
creaking expanding
My heart quickens
I strip down to nothing but your bruises
I lay on your table
face down
The light diminishes
I am wrapped in milky twilight
and the tick-tock of your clock
and the drip-drip of your tap
My ass open and twitching
A gift
I offer
and there's somebody who really said he loved me
But i came here
to you


  1. This is beautifully written.

    Hope you are doing well.



  2. This is a wonderful piece! Lovely sense of time and time passing.


  3. yay i like it too - i got butter on the screen. it added to the romance or something? i like the austere kitchen pictures also but what the fuck is in that cup?

  4. SB, all my love to you. Thank you.I'm doing better now. Insanity comes and goes LOL


  5. Malcolm,
    thank you very much. Time. Time passing. I have a thing with the sounds of clocks and night descending into a lonely room. It's just so sad, like it makes you know, it prepares you for what's coming.


  6. Butter would be certainly needed in a later part of the story LOL, so thnaks!
    What the fuck is in that cup...Well, I don't have a clue. Coffee and water and looks like piss and shit, LOL. No, i really don't remember.

    Lots of love to ya!