When Two People Come Together And Bash Their Brains and Genitals

Full title (oddly enough it didn't fit, which is quite epic since I usually favour one-word titles :P): When Two People Come Together And Bash Their Brains and Genitals Until They Think They Know What Poetry Is, You Know There’s Nothing Left To Find In This World And You Should Start Looking For The Next One



She lies there, reclined, and says she doesn’t feel like moving, only fucking.

I sit in a chair across from her and feel the need to point out that fucking involves moving.

She says not if you don’t mean it. I ask if she didn’t mean it, and state that it felt very much like she did.

She shifts and looks at me with her razorblade eyes that make my wrists and throat feel wet with thickening life-fluid. The still-sticky silk shifts across her thighs. She smiles and tells me she didn’t know I felt that way. I feel the words racing up my veins.

I clear my throat and tell her she’s fucked up. She raises one eyebrow, the one she’s forgotten to pluck again in her daily-haste of creating simulations of her face. She tells me that no one would fuck someone like her unless they’re fucked up themselves.

We look at each other, her with the playful heat of self-hatred, me with a constricting throat trying to tell her that it’s not what she thinks, it’s never what she thinks, that I think I love her – or could love her if she wasn’t such a whore.

She laughs and tells me not to speak, that I’m like a goddamn church for fuck’s sake. She says she can’t stand what comes out of my mouth and if she wanted a preacher she’d’ve fucked her way to salvation by now.

She doesn’t know what the fuck she wants, and I tell her.

She says neither of us do, and calls me honeycakes. She winks and slinks to the side of the mattress. Her breasts heave over her lingerie and she closes her eyelids in boredom.

She sighs and says that now she’s moved anyway, we may as well screw before the sun goes out.

I look out the window into the unending blackness of a forfeited sky.

I tell her it’s dark.

So's her vagina, she tells me.

I crawl into the bed and we don’t move. We fuck.