Demolition Lovers / Regis Reed

Demolition Lovers

Regis Reed

OH FIRE!

NEWS UPDATE: It is as feared → two lovers! Like this: his lipstick waxy and pink, skin shining that ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter’ sheen, legs held for the fishes. And this: bed unmade, sheets in a pile on the floor, perfume bottles and powder puffs, vanity mirror, vanity, necks connected to heads with gothic (t)ropes. And, perhaps, it went like: a fever unsweat, frantic hands frantic faces, lights, fogged mirrors, camera, the sound of a thousand widows, action, a flock of doves. Which is to say: dear listeners, I am lost to the sea. Creature, I call you, Lover, I beg you.

THE LATEST: Will they ever learn → signs point to no! Flash: a movie, two unidentified persons, she says he tastes like acid trips and lucid dreams, party favour, call him piñata and hit hard. Flash forward: 1980s songs of power dust, clown laugh fish fish fish, pouty mouth potty mouth, do you kiss your mother with that tongue, it’s about the shoulder darling. Flash future, the bones: prom dressed and depressed and decomposed composition, he is rotted limb, corner stores, she’s gone and she took it all, all it was she took. Heed the warning: sweet patrons, lest thee gouge eyes three times blind. Lover, you call me, Creature, you beg me.

AND IT: The facts follow → look here! Is: tragic, smokey fingers, lace black gloves and veiled veil and off white wedding, stop the tape, rewind the videos, break it down, break— Is not: reproductive, nuclear, mini van smashing down the street, eight pairs of shoes muddied at the door, coffee stained husband, 10 virgins, a bottle of wine— Could have been: firecracker, midnight love drunk punches in parking lot, love made backseat lava skin daredevil rouge, fast fitting fingers, the body, a body, embodied— 404 Error Not Found: TRANSmission ended.