‘til death do us part escaped their twisted lips as the dancers clutch one another in lover’s embrace, squeezing the life out of each other— a newlywed couple shedding their disgrace before they flick the tongue of their knifes into skin. No hard feelings, their knifes mutter, slipping intimately in an act of mutual penetration, making blood blossom like love on a wedding night. Their fluids drool over the cold, dead stones— what sort of release is there in familicide?
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© Thomas Gallimore Barker, 2021