exsanguinate | issue 2.1 excerpt

possession
She is possessed.
Wound,
bound
and helpless.
It is her own doing.
She rests in perpetual motion,
beyond obsession,
beyond sanity and reason,
beyond control --
driven to love the dying,
driven to embrace death.
She is the sorry hummingbird,
moving so quickly that she is invisible,
humming so hard that she is deaf.
She is filled with want --
and with loss.

He is possessed.
An unseen demon haunts him.
A wicked substance eats him.
Onto his saintly, translucent lips
the black heavy spit drips
and with his tragic tongue
he quietly licks it out of view.
It is all he can taste:
powerful.
It is all he can taste:
bitter.
It is all he can taste:
sweet.
It overcomes the flavor of everything:
the morsel of his desperate plate,
the liquid of his desperate glass,
the tongue of his desperate lover.
He is choking on this foreigner 
dwelling within his temple,
this disease which shares him hungrily --
taking without his permission
and yet, with his blessing.
And all the while,
he keeps his mouth shut.
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