Cocaine Fueled Mutual Masturbation Matinée


I

She gave me poppy scented dior branded diamonds. Snow.
All I knew was how to raise my arm, trying to disagree.
No love was lost when redundancy took over, we yelled
And no one came, no one tried. We were losing.
I silently ripped my clothes until nothing was left,
Expecting the colours of the world to change, at least.
Laying the broken glasses of the ancient tears, patiently,
She took the snow up to the big room, then the small room,
Until we all left, couldn't know each other, never met.

The eyes had dried, although occasionally dropping a tear
Or two. Little flames sparked and the fog was right outside.
The sheets, like empty shells, were still warm from any,
In fact, every madness that took place amongst them.
I blinked twice and gazed with utter bewilderment at her.
She knew better than this. Why would her eyes come across mine
When we both knew the poison was hot and its fire would burn,
Merciless, our pain and our fear, until we became shadows.
I simply turned my eyes all around and ran from the scene.

Every year had passed as if all was the same, like frozen
Pictures. When it began I'd think it did make sense, at least
From our point of view. When I finnally realized we couldn't age
It was already too late for me to love anyone. We were all dying,
Albeit staying immortal, due to our extreme excesses.
When I noticed the shaking grip of her pale hands in my slim leg,
The erotic pleasure of having a soul right in the palm of your hand,
A bolt of terror blazed right across my fearful mind:
We knew better than this, we had to dream another nightmare.


II

A thousand footsteps were heard when he came, cloaked and weary,
To warn all the sleeping corpses of the second holy turning.
Clearly I wasn't sober for a long time, I can't even recall how long,
So everything seemed quite obvious and dangerous at the same time.
I simply turned back to a mirror, just to know if I still could see.
He had come with a long list of promises, all equally absurd and,
Although quite beautiful, monstrously deformed from their original
Form. Doubt started to take over me and I ran once again, to oblivion
And beyond. Glass shards running through my veins, I couldn't cry.

The songs he used to play were always old and unstructured, weirdly,
So I could never quite follow them, or even his hands, while his ego,
Clearly detached from our reality, pressed his finger against my lips
And made me feel as if nothing else was actually happening around us.
It didn't matter, in fact, for the mellow tar was still dripping,
patiently slow, covering the walls around my fearful descents into
The fair obscurity of living and not caring. Many times I felt his
Desire to make us all his, at least in heart, but I didn't respond
To this red spell, I just closed my eyes and fell over the concrete.

All the ages that passed without recognizing him as a savant,
Despite his many attempts for us to do so, silently turned darker,
But we didn't worry, hand in hand with the flies, we craved for night
To come. It did come, cloaked in a silk robe made of stars and desire,
It pulled us into ourselves, until our hands were all together and
Kissed each other as if no soul mattered and the candles weren't lit.
Pieces of broken nails started raining over our ears, and we knew,
For once, that time had come and we could never be saved from him.
We forgot, it didn't matter for our enslaved minds.


III

The mirror had shrunk from excessive vanity being thrown at him.
Rust had climbed its watery surface, my eyes separated by a crack,
Saw her body gliding from one door to another, like a swan
Crossing a lake in the night. Hipnotized, I whispered some half-word,
Uncertain of its meaning. She came to me in a single step, deadly,
Felt her freezing breath wandering around my neck in circles.
Legs tied together, the mirror fell and became a million shards.
Once again, I knew she was still alive because of the soft touch
Of her hair, wandering around my neck in circles.

I was standing on the enormous steel blade used by the butchers
In the old days. With a cigarette hanging from my mouth,
I danced with her the music of concrete buildings, suspension,
Distant sounds locked around images of cages and cracked teeth,
Our arms feeling rather tired and our bodies ill with all those aches
Crawling about. The mansion was only twenty steps away, hidden,
And we picked flowers and laughed all the way. Time.
I stopped and looked at the arches in front of the doorway,
Rain pouring softly over the echoing stones, dirty.

The painful sound of nails across a chalkboard were heard, loud, mad,
Across the seven floors and seventeen chambers of the decadent castle.
His eyes were all over our pale bodies. He picked up all diamonds
From the carpet. Kept them in his sacred pocket, away from light.
We knew he was there, we didn't move a single toe, mad with fear.
The sound of his indecisive steps came closer to my head,
My hands shaking, his touch across my hair, uncovering my gaze.
Picked her hand under the silk and stood up, she did the same.
Walked out of the room without ever looking at his fallen tears.


IV

Riding, riding, riding a secret pool of fog, turning fainted girls
Into lazy little boys, wearing fake moustaches and guilty looks,
That moment came and I just picked up a knife and took the bad hair
Away from me. My lungs were all sick and twisted from breathing them,
Those lazy little boys. I used to kiss them goodbye, never thinking,
Not even for a single moment, that they would miss my fake smiles.
Roses ripped apart in my cut hands, silence right behind me,
Another century passed right in front of my forgotten eyes,
I was all over needs, breakfast wounded. The purge of no one.

Her foot was lying on my shaking lap, while I paused to think,
Not much, while circles of ash formed on the back of my hand.
That hedious looking scar was all over the room, although far away in
Some dark measured cabinet. Her lips were moving and forming words,
Couldn't care less, kissed her and continued enjoying the grey clouds
And the black birds, and the fading sound of old music, far away in
Some dark measured cabinet. She stared without innocence, gods,
Or anything pityful that allowed me to hate her.
I locked my tears inside a little box and left the garden.

A coffin. My legs crossing the space between hers, pale skin burning,
The smell of all those human beliefs dancing over our dizzy heads.
I asked for another glass of something, wrote another line of pure
Nothing. A yawning hit on the thirty seventh cigarette made me laugh.
Standing outside the glass room, I counted the cars that passed,
Unaware of the ominous presence on my side, my dying consciousness.
I came back inside, took her by the hand and walked to the center
Of the ill lit room, gently curved my back and seriously asked for a
Last dance. Her eyes were out, the glass broke and I shook my head out.