Careless and disorganized.
Caverns with cheap ‘happy new year’ signs pinned to brick and soggy piss-coloured walls, newspapers cover boundaries but their text is dripping blending into light and leftover cocaine on a cluttered table. Glitter pills fill your mouth your lips are all ripped up and colourful. My body is dripping, I expect to melt into the boy in front of me or drip into the girl’s beer glass, maybe she will drink me up and smell me too, our organs will fall out of our wet bodies and mix together onto the floor like balls of hot wax that we smother and slip on, my heels are ground down and I fall into that lady’s body smelling at least four people and the indelicate beer sweat. When the noise and the orgasm is over (all of us touching each other and electric bodies shuddering and the brassy click of pain in my ear drums) we reassemble ourselves and bring the parts back together; we no longer exist as one mass but autonomous bodies again, we shuffle out looking elated but uncomfortable, post-friendly-stranger-fuck yeaaah move it into the street someone else will have picked up my lungs accidentally and I will have grabbed the heart of a boy, crowd surfing and propelled onto the stage. In the rush to compose ourselves we snatch the wrong parts and no longer know who we are or what animals become us. I want to rub a guitar between my legs while I suck on that mans fingers. People are shrugging me back into the crowd of fluids and wetness and bodies shaking like we’re all scared epileptic children on the edge of death. We are young beautiful and mindless for a moment like that moment just before you cum. Buildings are just boxes holding people together. Bodies are buildings, words are buildings or something. I’m not sure you know what I mean. I am very much in love
Image by Richard Dadd