The Pos­sessed

The Iowa Review - - NEWS -

The sun con­verts into a gauzy moon, the moon of my life that is! All shadow, all fumes— I’m so fuck­ing ex­hausted, Felix.

And yet I love you! And if you want to­day, like an eclipse of sorts, like a phe­nom­e­non, we can en­ter our mad­ness again, en­ter the tomb of the surg­ing crowd and it will be good.

Look at your eyes, those chan­de­liers. Look at mine, my brother. I’m com­pelled by some over­whelm­ing lust, some mor­bid, thrilling plea­sure.

Black night. Red dawn. You can be what­ever you want me to be. There’s not a fiber in my body that doesn’t cry for you, cry— Oh my dear Satan, je t’adore!

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