keverdromen

she was lying on her side like a breathing marble fetus, the moonlight playing over her forms; she came to herself in her chiseled long hair. I counted the intervertebral spaces in her strained back; her skin foresaw me like a polished wall mirror, my smile, mystified and stolen, drifted between her thin ribs: an endless series of big eyes and grimaces tugged from my face. I unzipped her flesh, twisted her lungs and unbuttoned her outer heart, veins and arteries, like dense lianas and cobwebs, oppressing heat. in her muscles stroke a fever, a fleshy pumping entity of unknown bacilli, in which my whole arm became warm and moist, I reached, palpated nervously every inside. she, her head backwards, suddenly looked at me, with her blackened eyes, her neck snapped and her throat, her esophagus overtensioned like an iron cable. her suffocating for breath sounded like the beating of her growing and swelling heart, until the entire room turned red, crimped and expanded in order. her elastic dr