I was feeling very adolescent about something and so I made a mix about it. Here it is for you, Internet. The image is a detail from a self-portrait I made years and years ago using my hair and some Raymond Carver and some other things. 

Neutral Milk Hotel - Sailing Through (demo)

Smog - Came Blue

Nine Inch Nails - La Mer

Mount Eerie with Julie Doiron & Fred Squire - O My Heart

The Velvet Underground - Oh Sweet Nuthin

The Brian Jonestown Massacre - B.S.A.

Joy Division - Disorder

Fiona Apple - Valentine

Set Fire to Flames - when sorrow shoots her darts

Rasputina - Hunter’s Kiss

Patsy Cline - Just Out Of Reach

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds f/ PJ Harvey - Henry Lee

Silver Jews - We Could Be Looking For The Same Thing

Don Covay - Come See About Me

Mark Lanegan - Consider Me

Songs: Ohia - Captain Badass

I dream we are on a train, hurtling through the night on the upper deck. I lost the ability to discern dream from desire, one method of fabrication from another. 

You look back at me over your uniformed shoulder, stern, and I know we are headed toward punishment. The infraction matters less than its swift address. We follow the rules, except when we don’t. I crawl down the aisle, past grey cushioned seats. I carry the leash in my mouth. 

We are on a sunlit sidewalk in a foreign country, Belgium, maybe, and I follow just a step behind you. Every few blocks you reach your hand back and slide it under my skirt, just one second’s touch, less, just the slightest press against my cunt to check again that yes, I am not wearing anything underneath, and yes, this belongs to you. 

We are in a large white bed on the shore of a lake, and your hand is on my throat. You kiss my cheeks and my temples and my gasping mouth. 

We are sitting in a familiar bar. We are in the bathroom of a familiar bar. We are in the alley along the back of a familiar bar. I am up against the wall and you are up against me, and the air is full of summertime night, sliding along our pushed-aside clothes. You make me beg. 

Your voice across long distances, your radio wires trembling in your throat. The strings pulled taught over the banjo neck in your guts, the melody of every time I shied and meeked away from the wolf smile barracked in your lips. Here, I can perhaps play the huntress, with the blood at arm’s length.
-
Your voice just at my side, leaning against my leg and looping through my days, but my fingers are brushing cracked screens when I look at you. Little bits of glass hitching in my skin when I reach out to slide myself across your mottled body. I will place my pussywet fingers behind my ears, I will speak only on this just barely side of proper, I will ache and ache and ache, for looping.
-
Your voice held inside your mouth like a secret. Your face, in my dreams nearly every night, the way you hold your body like you know something, your poet’s hands and your fascist grace. If simply once you placed your hand on my neck: a falling, and a smell like cut grass and cold lake water, the scar burning on my arm.
-
Your voice, echoing strong in the night world, glitter and flash, but quiet spoke against my shoulder. The nervous girlish in your boy’s demeanor, the spit wet lips on your young coyote jaw. I want to twist myself inside you like a slow construction.

Red lipstick, and your hair done coy, and a dress that shows the place between your shoulder blades that I am always wanting to touch and I think:

by god if we lived in a world without restraint you’d be up against the pinball machine, knocking bottles to the floor, cheap beer swilling on our shoes. I imagine every word as moaned around my fingers. You say something clever and I want to fuck you ‘til you sob. Up against the wall by your neck, in the front seat of your car, perched on the edge of my couch. Everyone else in this room will burst into flame. We eat slices of pizza, steaming hot, and I think about your cunt like a hunter. Fuck everyone, just get on top of me. Please, please, please forget the world and take off your clothes. I want to push all of me in. I want to fucking ruin you. I want to hold you after, your sweat streaking the floor of a hallway. Please. Please. Your lip in my teeth. I think I know exactly how your voice sounds. Come here. Come here. Come here.