First published in: minimag
There wasn’t much small talk.
The host hooked me up
with some drugs.
Slow drip.
Steady pump.
Creeping around my body
like a bad date’s hands.
The squeeze of it
horrifying and delightful
The music came on.
I swayed with the lights guy
in my hospital gown.
Dancing skeletons
all knees and hips.
Neon blinks.
The pictures rolling out
on the high resolution display.
A final drink
with vampires,
poking and prodding.
Drawing blood, acidic and salty.
There’s nothing left
but a thin shell
of skin and scar.
It’s a standing invitation
that I want to decline.
