Short travelogue about a visit to Edinburgh.
This inhuman need
for people washed away
by words and vanity…
We met at one of those dark places. The silence between us had stretched. She was inhaling the new liquid. I was on the one with three letters. Twice our lips touched across the divide. A bridge of tongues. A stream of saliva. The mixture of lips.
My memory lost
consciousness as
a loudspeaker
recorded its last
lament…