1.
i'm a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl and i want him to dip his toes in me, pull his hands through me, lift me up and let me stream between his fingers. i want him to make a wish and let it sink to the stone floor of my heart.
2.
he says, 'you've gotta get up, eff.'
he has socks and a dress crumpled in his hands and he's offering them to her like a prayer. his face is crumpled, too.
he fades out, mouthing words to himself, confirmations, and effy can't hear them until he sets down a glass of orange juice and the sound makes her jump and her ears start working again.
'i can't play these games anymore,' he says, 'you need to get up.'
3.
i can hear them. they think they're so quiet and sneaky but i can hear them. the devils laugh from the shadows, but they can't see that i too have glittering eyes and a forked tongue.
4.
he treats her like glass but still fucks her like she's flesh and bone. more bone than flesh. he hides the stoli and tries to feed her milk and lemonade but she can smell the spliff on his breath when he climbs into bed and she won't play these games anymore.
5.
the sea is ablaze and if he wanted to he could save me from drowning in the oil and filth. my feathers are matted but i don't have a decent bone in me anyway. my hair is on fire and he might stamp it out because that's true love, yeah, of course it is: braving the embers and stomping away my ashes with his callouses.
6.
'effy, love, stop it now. no more.'
she can feel the heat of his hand on her face and she wonders.