Paradise Rot

Here lay two Siamese twins, bound together by a thick freckled masculine sinew.

I dreamt of two bodies, girls’ bodies, our bodies: our upper bodies had melted together and our necks twisted around each other, thin and long like swans’ necks. The girls were naked and hairless. The faces were shadowed. It was impossible to tell who was who. The cracks between them were covered in white mould fur, as if they shared a skin woven around them.

From these two holes grow two thin stems that burrow through my skin and flesh, twisting and tangling around my spine. Along my back little yellow fruits start to grow. I feel their taste in my mouth: cold sweet sap.

I thought we were synchronized, or I wished we were: that she should dream what I’d dreamt, that she should taste what my mouth tasted. And in my mouth I felt two tongues, mine and hers, licking each other’s lips and swallowing each other’s spit.

stench of rotten fruit had spread through the entire flat. It felt like the brewery had been transformed into a big wet tank that was waiting for Carral and I to decompose within it: a rotten, reeking Garden of Eden.

but I couldn’t read at all anymore, just sat and listened to her breath, guessing how far she’d got. I didn’t notice her moving until her face almost touched mine.

And for every bit of him I lick and kiss, he shrinks a little before me, as if I’m rubbing him out with my lips, as if his face is disappearing into mine and only the skin remains, white and shiny like the empty sundial in front of City Hall.

Then I stroked her arms, her thighs, her belly. Together we filled each other to the brim and lay there slumped in an all-consuming doze, like gorged snakes digesting their prey.

We’re not close. Our bodies watch each other, keeping their distance. We’re like two strangers, in different rooms, at different times.

I wondered what was apple juice and what was her spit, and thought about licking the place where she’d bit to see if I could tell the difference.