Words are for foolish humans by Bogdan Dragos

“I wish I could write my feelings on the wings of a blue butterfly,” she said. “And then follow it around the room with a burning candle or a lighter until I burn it to a crumpling crisp. I would write about you on those wings, of course. I would go to sleep dressed in funeral attire, hiding your solar plexus between my legs, your skull between my breasts, my tongue circling around and around over and over again inside your orbits. I would decorate your skeletal mouth with rose petals and stick thorns between your teeth. And how many vertebrae do you think I can swallow without choking? D’you think that with training, in time, I could deep throat your whole spine?” His lips parted for a reply but she quickly sealed them back with a finger dipped in her body juices “Shh, don’t answer me with words, darling…