19/06/2010

Mutual Hallucinations

He walks. Wilted. With a walking stick.

She glides. Flawless. Without a head.

They meet,
At the shore,
Watching bodies,
Drift onto the sand,
At their scarred feet.

The faces look familiar.

They plan. Their life.
On that bright billboard.

They see children. They see a home.

They see a graveyard.
For the foetuses who will escape life.

He will strangle her when the sun goes down,
And she will pretend to be asleep.