
This work leans in to the type of love that consumes you so completely, its pure mindless magnetism oozing - glistening, that first transgression of touch, the blissful immersion of skin and saliva, carnal central, carnal sensual, the heat, the sweat, the hot fit, the uninhibited primitive, the enmeshment, the betrayals, the brutality, the delicious desire, palpable, explosive - corrosive and the love, the love, the love or is it another form of addiction or worse - a faulty familiar reenactment of a shitty childhood? Just trying to get it right this time, the definition of insanity- doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, sometimes I just want to open up his god-damn gorgeous chest and hop inside and be held forever and other times I want to punch his fucking face in. Without him I’m a hungry baby, with him a crazy lady. This relationship really is not working, these types of impossible love are only meant to last a year or so in your mid twenty’s…Well who cares because I love him and he loves me and as I said at the end of my poem - that captured him all those years ago when I was 27, whilst in a relationship with someone else…
Our bodies melt into chemical kamikaze. We fight for bliss, We fight forever!
The tenderness, the tongue, the tease, the tears, the longing, the bite and the bitten.
The impressions we leave on each-other, the compulsion to touch the fire, to fall back into the inferno - drawn to what destroys us like that misguided moth, the booze, the drugs, the lies, the truth, the hurtling objects shining through space rudely appropriated on impact, broken and useless – yet still beautiful in fragments. The making up and the absurdity of coming back to each-other again and again for 20 fucking years like some stupid Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton scenario but without the diamonds.