When I smack my gum it's to signalthat I do perceive space and time, it's justI'm kind of over it.

No moon in sight, so I howled at the exit sign instead.

Turns out, there are no synonyms for King.

I drink and drink their looking, til I'm soaked.I drink and drown in want. I drink, and choke.

I'm a net teeming with pervy fingers, reaching for anythingthat will bite me back, any promise of stoppage—

Otherwise, the dark and our mouths, tearing at what bones we found, grinning and hungry for something—something we couldn't, with all our words, name.

Otherwise: the dark, and our bodies, two strange women trying to touch each other.

The only teeth I have are human teeth, I remind him, gentlybefore opening his throat.

There are only so many parallel universesthat concern us. In one, he isn't dead.