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--- A N D Y   M O R G A N

I was breathing ocean as the mistress snorted, the idle blight of raspy linen splitting lips as a tendril of weather stretched our skin: "There’s little more than simony between us."

We were transparent together, as still as worms: those which dirt. I wasn’t a stork, but a Cardinal, a foolish excuse for enough cleaning the pool with a whip. She was the Robert Campin of the Aborigines, the malformed lip of a smothered child. Together we were left handed, (futhark runes touching only at corners) our love life as seeded as a heart-burst at twelve.

I walked cement, shoring the shore with a bit of a limerick before her shattered gait tendriled an eddy. It was her gaze that gutted me: crucifix scented and buttering dawn. We’d accomplished a facsimile, nothing more. There were cadences undecreed, religious disclosures yet to be produced. It wasn’t like we were elderly: there was present still a giddy love of fucking. "Yet we shimmer like a summer lake, I yakked indiscriminate and, forgive me, without a thought of the kids: the springtime’s best for them, as we’ve discussed, but what of Audrey, the winter’s lot, who’s pastels shimmer with the tweed of an umbilical?"

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