/lit/ - Literature

"Love is shameful and unproud. None of us used to love. We fucked, made the offspring fuck. Until we were all fucking. You loved me as a whore loved her job. As a politician loved giving to the people. You're proud of your skin and prosthetic breasts. You fucked me. I didn't love you for fucking me, just like my father and his father before him.

I'd probably fuck you again. It's better than eating tv dinners in front of a cold window and a broken radiator. Sometimes when I think of fucking you, I touch that radiator. Not once since fucking you, however, has that radiator given my hand a warm response.

It's been awhile since I've been downtown. All the blacks nod at me with white faces. It's February, I fucked you on new years. My knuckles are cracking and bleeding all over the page. It's okay, I'm writing in red ink. You told me to write in red ink. I believed you, and wrote everything in red ink.

I signed my name in red ink on that parking ticket I got while I was fucking you. I did the same on the restraining order, and the child support.

The blacks are approaching from that one resturaunt I took you to before I fucked you. We didn't get seats, had no reservations. You said let's eat at my place. I didn't know we'd be eating each other's hearts.

We fucked - did we? As I recall, you fucked me, made me bleed red ink all over your pages. The blacks are a block away with white faces.

Funny, I'm white with a black face."