28 agosto, 2012

Disintegration


He remembers the pain, the itchy skin, the hum of the machine, the breath of this dude sliding on his back. And of course, the two hundred dollars crumpled in his pocket.
A California license plate on the front door reads: "to tattoo only important things".
He closes his eyes. Unknown fingers brushing his neck. Faster, harder, tired. He wants to moan, rubbing his erection against the black leather chair. Pleasure and pain come from the same place. Soon he will be marked by an indelible memory, something that should never happen. Ink and guilt together forever. Like a cigarette crushed, like unsafe sex, like a one-sided love, like a split lip, like a red light, like a sharp turn, like the smell of gasoline and blood before the car overturned, like the smell of the ashes left behind by the fire...

(you need me, you burn me, you'll burn me)

"Yeah, I need you so bad."

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