Skin on Bone

   (Zombie walk in Moscow 2010)


Looking at him through a plexiglass box full of ice-cream cones, the floor all wet and sticky. Wonder who is the unlucky human to clean it.
All around me happy, horrid faces covered in stitches, cuts, gushes and gore...They are loving every minute of it and so do I.

I go back to staring through the plexiglass box but two zombie kids running around break my reverie. Their make-up is all smudged and they are licking the thick cranberry juice thing used for blood. I feel his eyes on my face. They are warming up my protruding bones, the gush over my brow, the hole just below my heart.

"Upon my Death! He's coming.." I mutter and pull a strand of hair over the gush on my cheek.

"Hello zombie girl" he says and chuckles.

"Hello."

My head falls down, I am so afraid my chest will collapse or worse he will detect the death in me.
"You didn't overdo it." he said pointing at my face.
"Yes, I thought I would go for subtle."  I said and smiled.

I look up to catch a glimpse of his face. I think of all the things I want to do to him and my guts ache. All that is left of them.
Pull his head all the way back and grab hold of his Adam's apple, suck on his, caress it with my  tongue and let go a little after it hurts. Hide my face between his shoulder blades, let my tears of sorrow trickle down his silky skin, wrap my arms around his waist, and slide down bone by bone by bone, slither on his skin, run down like a drop of blood breathe him in the moment until he's no more. And then, if he stays enough, if he accepts the fact, if he is willing to let go, take him in, if he is willing to let go. And then he can break me, fold me twice in half and put me in the box or he can grind me to dust and release me in the air, or take me again so I can melt from his heat, melt into slime, into nothing.

(18th century Gothic sensationalism.
You are not interested in his bones. You want to see if his sperm can stick to the ceiling, you want to suck him up, hear him beg. You want to  flay him alive, YOU WANT HIM TO DIE IN YOUR ARMS!)

No!.... (yes, it's been so long...but no, not like that. I can do much better than that, if only I can remember).

Skin on bone.
His finger lifts my chin up and I bore into his face, he smiles and takes me by the hand.