The guards don’t dare open the door.
“There are foxes in the wind,” she says, in-between coughing them up. “Why do you think your cheeks are nipped pink? They’re always hungry.” She laughs, and the men outside the door shudder. “There are foxes in the sleet, landing on your fingers when you milk the goats. There are foxes in the drifts, collapsing your sheep pens. String up as many of them as you want, make a whole village out of foxes, but you won’t stop them.”
Better yet, she thinks, run into the sea and drown. Let the rest of us live in peace.
I hope they tear you apart before you can kill a single one.
The village waits, afraid.
The green-eyed fox nuzzles her hands and she thinks: There are a lot of awful people. I need to make a lot more foxes to overcome them all. It is easy to remember, over and over, and though it hurts, she gets used to it: the retch and cough, the slide of fur over her throat, the flick of a tail against her teeth. Her smile, broad as a sword.
Out they come.
and love shall have no dominion
livia llewellyn
craigslist > hell > district unknown > personals > missed connections > d4hf
Date Unknown
human star, are u my gate to the world?—(central park west, August 2003)
it was the night of the blackout—do u remember? time is as one to me time is nothing to me time is nothing, but in ur linear existence it was Then, it was the night the city closed her hundred million eyes. one hundred degrees and still rising as heat bled up from the buildings and streets, anxious to escape into the cool of space, never again to be bound. u were walking up the western edge of that man-made forest in the hard pitch of night, humans stumbling all around, flailing and quaking under an unfolding sky of stars they had never before seen, or simply forgotten existed. humans, brilliant with the Creator’s life like star fire and u the brightest of all, but red and gold and white like my fallen Majesty, my sweet Prince, shining in the cesspools of earth he eternally spirals through, a necklace of diamonds crashing over shit-covered stone. and i? i was wandering to and fro upon and over the world, as our divine Prince taught us, and as i glanced down i caught the faint flash of a spark. that is what drew me down and in, the force and fuse of life that comprises ur soul. u felt it 2. do not deny: i know u saw the thick branches of the trees bend and toss in my wake, rippling and bowing before my unseen passage. i saw ur eyes widen, and the bright gold fuse of stargodfire coil in ur heart, darken and drop lower. u quickened ur pace, but u never stopped staring into the primal green mass, ur desire rising with the heat with the wind with every thunderous vibration of my coming. mystery power and the unseen currents of un-nature, revealed in the absence of confusion of un-light and machines—these things drew ur most inner self toward me even as u turned away walking up the long walled side of the forest, running ur hand against the ancient rock, fingers catching thick moss and small weeds, soft fingers scrabbling over hard cold granite sparkling-veined with the crushed bones of things long past. and the wall became my body my horns my mind and i lapped at ur creamy thoughts and the city shuddered in unease, and so did u.
all parts of u all fissures all hollows all voids will i fill until u open ur mouth and there is only my voice / open ur eyes only my sight / touch ur cunt only my cock / slice ur flesh bleed only my tears.
no need to respond. u will. u already have.
Date Unknown
a thousand times ill-met, yet not met once—(fifteenth floor, office building, midtown, 2005)
u were at a work machine, shaking a malformed manmade thing—fine sprays of obsidian liquid shot up, landing against white silk and skin. the last of the ink, spent against lonely flesh. do u remember this day? laughter, floating across the floor. and u dropped the object, put ur hands to ur throat as u fled to ur women’s rooms, where u sat on cold porcelain and cried, wondering what to make of such a life, a life so open to wonderful wide pain, and yet so mean, so small. u wept, and i licked at the tears—u felt me. fear leapt and coursed through ur body like a hunted hart. but u did not flinch or scream or draw away. i have trained u well—contact such as this in the public arena of slithering man has taught u to suffer my touch in silence, feigning ignorance. my talons slithered up ur thighs, leaving beaded trails of red against ur skin, and while u shuddered in silent terror and pain, i thought of many things.
i thought of u.
i have traveled now, many times through time, threading back through ur life to childhood, to the very first breath. with each stitch i stole, with each nip of the needle and thread of my will and desire, a moment of joy, of hope, of love, of beauty, of wonder was snipped from ur life like cancer, working open the hole through which i will inevitably enter. age two, sitting in ur front yard under the spring’s warm sun, watching ur father plant flowers that later burst into glorious blooms—/—that later withered into putrid stinking masses at the touch of my vomit and piss. ur first true memory, forever changed, because i made it so. ur dog ate those decaying flowers, and died. u wept in ur little bed, and i sifted down through starry night and raised u high in ur nightmares toward them, showing u the whorls of the milky way as i nibbled the tears away. working working working, i stitched myself into every moment of ur life—even at the start, when my clawed hands twisted u from ur mother’s womb in a gyre of blood—until the pressing horror of my unseen presence was as familiar and constant as the rain, the hole as wide as the reach of the magellanic. i am everywhere and everywhen: there is no moment when i have not existed for u / prepared for u / planned for u / toiled for u. and now, there is no moment in ur life when u have not existed for me. do u love my work, love?—but u love nothing now, nothing u can see, nothing u can taste or touch with the meaty cage by which u are bound. this is my work, and all those unbidden moments of heart-cracking loneliness, covering ur years until u can barely take a breath, until u long for anything except where and what u are? u are welcome.
despair of everything, my love, even ur pretty blouse, but never despair of this:
we shall soon meet.
Sat Oct 23
of all the things I’ve made—(apartment, west chelsea, 2009)
u are the finest. our terror / our pain / our horror / our screams / our blood that pours from ur skin as i rake it with horns / talons / teeth. my flame-haired shooting star plummeting to earth and u know it is me u are falling into, and u cannot stop. i clear the path like a maelstrom—books and crockery dashed to ur floors, chairs swept aside, food rotted and flyblown with my single breath. un-lights explode, and in the darkness i expand like disease, driving friends / family / lovers / life from ur world. do u not understand? when we are as one, there will be no room for any of this in ur world. no room, no need. only our need. only mine.
u were sitting in that part of the building u have claimed as ur own, curled up in the corner of the largest room, on the largest cushions. images flickered in and out from a screen, and u watched them in silence as u drank yet again from the glass cup in ur steady hands. many times had the sun risen and set over ur city since i last touched and tasted u, laid waste to the possessions u think u love. the screen flickered. u swallowed ur wine and smiled. i watched the soft glint of hair at the back of ur neck, the fine lines around the corners of ur mouth, the curl of ur plump pink toes. untroubled breath, as even and smooth as the beat of ur heart. life, creamy placid and it washed over me, and and andand outside, afternoon sank and evening spread indigo feelers throughout the canyons of machines, and all over the world the swarming insect masses lit their candles and fires and devices, desperate pathetic futile in their attempts to hold night at bay, but firm in conviction. safety like their prayers, false and comforting. no different than u and i. and the little machines ticked the time away and the screen grew dark and u crept to bed. un-light washed in from the streets, dappling neon flashes from cars and signs, oranges yellows reds. and carefully, carefully: i hovered over ur sleeping flesh,
sinking as slowly as the constant decay of space. ur heartbeat weakened, ur breath deepened—i tasted fear, felt the cold familiar terror envelope u. a dream i came to u as—a nightmare, and u frozen in my grip. but yes. yes. i descended, sliding my arms around u, the phantom lover of ur dreams, dark and dangerous, all-enveloping. and u unfroze, ur body pooling against mine. we lay together under the unfurling universe, my exhaling breath caught by ur inhalations. so soft and warm, so perfect a fit. as if this is what we were made to be.
do u remember Catala, on the beach, thirty-six years ago, before it sank into the sands? u were only twelve, and u fell through the rotting deck of the beached ship while looking for treasure. i stayed with u for a day and night, until they found u. i made the cold ocean waters warm and kept the crabs and gulls at bay, and i put my hand on ur heart and held u ever so tight, my horns and wings ur shelter, my body ur bed. i thought u saw me, through the veil of your tears. i thought u smiled. i thought i kissed ur lips. i may be wrong.
no, that memory is gone. it never happened. i ate it away; and then i broke ur legs.
human star, do u remember this night, this moment? remember it now, for tomorrow i shall wander to and fro again, back into the night into this pocket of time very pocket this NOW and i shall cut and fuck and burrow and rape my way into us and devour devour DEVOUR us until it has never happened until until we have never until until until FUCK FUCK FUCKING COCKSUCKING CUNTFUCK laksd WOEIFF
Δ; kd Σκι;φκΛΚΦΚΔσδϕΣkdΛ ΛΚΔΦ ll;ΣΙΕ λδσσδ;
o
Sat Oct 23
iron fist in a pale-skinned human glove—(apartment, west chelsea, 2009)
star nursery of my desire, womb of my existence, do u remember this afternoon remember this afternoon and how it bled into the night like the child u had in windy ellensburg, the girl u left in long glistening strands of plasma redblack gouts of soft flesh blood on the floor of the bathroom as i stroked ur salt-wet hair, great rending sobs and the quaking pain splitting through ur curves ur tears lost like Catala in the fires of my touch
no.
NO NO NO
do u remember this afternoon, pale and grey in ur endless grey city, open-mouthed ziggurats gnawing at the sunless sky? u stood at the window, wine glass full and dribbling in ur hand, staring at scudding clouds tentacling their way over silent-screamed rooftops, that familiar buzz undrowned by the drink, that familiar whisper and soft thundered deja-vu that this day was happening again. yes. ur breath fogged the window, and u placed the glass on the sill, raised ur hand to wipe it away, and—within that sliver of a second as the tiny beads of moisture floated off the glass u saw me behind it, saw the glint and gleam of my eyes, the curve of my fanged smile, the heft of my fist and all the attendant power and glory of the universe, all the secret places the Creator has forever kept from u all the stretches of dark matter and the knowledge that blossoms under the light of a hundred billion alien suns. u saw all, and the blood rushed into the core of ur flesh surrounding the stargodfire and u staggered back from the glass, pissing urself as I burst into the room, slamming through u like an errant asteroid. U hit ur head on a table, small moans seeping from grimacing lips but no time to scream or shout because this isn’t happening how could this happen this only happens in dreams. I grabbed ur ankles and swung u around, my footfalls like lightning strikes against the polished stone, and ur fingers grabbed at tables chairs fallen books the edges of doors, and I rose u high like a flag, ur hands sliding up the doorframe, little threads of blood left behind with ur nails, and I ripped ur garments like tissue like breath like clouds and thrust my wriggling claws up inside, and finally u screamed, and in the bedroom against the quilts and childhood blankets I threw u down, pressing pressing and still u screamed in a city that only ever screams, only ever the sound of our breath the low dark explosions of my heart and clap of wings and the endless thrum of traffic and the uncaring world outside. I punched ur face and blood sprayed benedictine against our mouths, broke ur wrists down against the cloth, forced ur legs wide open my talons biting ur flesh ur cunt dark red and raw like a setting sun and I sunk into u my barbed cock splitting working working the hole and o god the bright gold fuse, the Creator’s spark so close and my tongue deep in ur throat and my fingers against it choking and ur breasts soft warm scratched a thousand times by scales and I rammed u rammed u rammed u and this world so close now so close to everything that had ever been torn away
small fingers against the curve of my tail, u smiled
what have i
there, there, and ur sobs so soft and low and u spoke a word, a single gold fused plea passed from ur lips to mine i drank it in a gossamer silken wisp of the Creator, of u: and i slowed, i slowed. o my love, i slowed.
Sat Oct 23
is this what Humans want?—(bedroom, west chelsea, 2009)
this day i have plunged into a hundred thousand times, and all about us the universe spins and reverses, spins once more, once more. do u remember this day, this afternoon, this evening, unfolding again and again and again, unfolding like the bruised cream white of ur thighs, the swollen purple dusk of ur sex, the blood-split lips of ur quivering mouth? i sliced into ur beach like the Catala, i thrust the sands part, and there was no resolution, no joining, and the golden red stargodfuse flickered and floated in the unreachable distance as i lay spent between ur wet dunes, rusting, sinking into entropy and decay. that moment, that slow delicious moment, i have yet to find again. u said nothing u say nothing, every troy-like day upon day, u flinch and grimace and turn away and i pin ur face like a wriggling insect crushing ur jaws with my nails until the bones grind and bend, roaring and biting obscenities into ur tongue, and still u do not speak. do u remember it, that single slow moment when our eyes met, when u truly saw me, when u touched and whispered to me as a lover? i think i no longer do. i think it was a human infection, a trick of the Creator, a cancerous dream.
shadows sifted through the room like ghosts, cast from the same clouds, the same sun, the same sky as ten thousand days before. they are as familiar now to me as ur body against the red-stained sheets, staring past the ceiling into a future i cannot fathom or divine. my hand pressed down on ur chest, feeling ur heart gallop under all the layers of bone and skin, and u grew quiet and ur breath stilled and daylight crept from the room. i thought many times of peeling u apart, burrowing clawing through the layers into ur dying center, gnawing the bones and piercing ur eyes with the shards, snapping each rib one by one by one until ur lungs grew still and the arteries drained and ur small firm heart nestled against my palm, until i bathed in all the molecules of ur meaningless life, draped myself in ur soul, and rose anew, as one with everything u ever were.
how everything changes with a single word
how do u live ur life like this, so apart from everything in this vast existence except ur distant Creator, so at peace with being alone, apart. we lay next to each other in blood and piss and tears, my horns tangled in ur matted hair, our breath winds in and out of the others lungs, and ur eyes see nothing, ur skin feels nothing, u do NOTHING to seek me out, to discover what terrible invisible glorious power binds u to this moment, compels u to relive this day again and again. all my work, all throughout time, to make u pliable / soften resolve / sweeten despair / sharpen fear, so long have i toiled and crashed against uFUCKING LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME SEE ME. see me like u did that first day that one time please i beg of u SPEAK TO ME O human star o love. are u a test. have i failed.
do u remember the word u spoke to me. do u remember the smile. will u not give these again? must i bite and scratch and claw it out of ur face and cracked teeth clattering down as i pull apart the cartilage grind the tongue meat forked and shredded searching seeking destroying but u do not remember. i eat each day and vomit it up and gorge it down again, until everything u ever were in me resides, the fuse that drives u mine.
must i take everything. do i.
yes
Date Unknown
a Gnossienne of the Heart—(unknown)
do u remember when i left u? do i remember when u left me? Time is measureless to me, Time is as air is as the dark wounds and tears through which i travel unseen and endless horizonless alone. and the city spreads out below me glittering sequins of tiny human souls thrown down against a net of electric fire an inferno of falsity and lies encased in canyons of profane steel. and i but rancid garbage caught in the dervishes of machine-made wind, adrift and without purpose. o my Prince, is this what u see, u feel, as u wander to and fro amongst ur souls? and the forest below is still, and ur brown-stained bed sheets empty.
Time is weight. Time is measured calculable movements of human-forged horror, each as slow and meaningless as the one behind and before, Time a river, Time a great hooked chain dragging us to no place with no purpose, tethered bits of flesh. Time divides.
o empty star, each day i descended into the churning engines of Time, of un-nature and un-light, i descended amidst static and disruption, iron blades backwards, clocks unwinding, water in circles recoiling fast away. and the hospital shuddered at its granite foundation, patients vomited and bled, tongues spewed languages long dead, and all things foul and fair cried out as i worked worked worked against Time. before ur bed ur wasting flesh i stitched myself to the fetid air, commanding u to arise, to wake and fall into my arms, to say the Word as u had once said it before. walls cracked and mirrors shattered, and the Creator’s minions scurried back and forth in their wine-dark robes, chanting His lies, evoking our brothers to save u. but my flies and shit kept all who thwarted me away, their eyes bled when they read His lies, and His book became as ash in their broken hands. again and again, i lowered myself upon u. u did not stir. milkglass eyes. parched lips. i placed my tight-sewn mouth ever so gently against urs, against ur nipples, ur cunt. everything u ever were is gone. everything i ever
The Humanity of Monsters Page 29
