I laugh for a second. It is that half-hollow, hissing laugh, breathy and raw. You answer with a smile. It ripples across your high cheekbones. The lines in your forehead crease. Clairvoyant colors swirl in your glassy eyes.
The carnival dances against the midnight sky. You twist your upper lip. You twirl. The night’s heat skitters across your skin like stars. Tonight my dear, you shine. It is hard to vie for a star. I am this galaxies black hole.
Tonight’s breeze carries the smell of wild strawberry. It rustles through your raven hair. I’d do anything to see your best.
I’d do anything.
Powdered sugar shimmers from the creases in your lips. You smear it haphazardly with the back of your hand. It blends smoothly into your skin. Funnel cake is a favorite.
I thumb the rectangle tickets in my right hand. The smooth paper dampens. Next is your pick. My lips rub together like sand paper, sticking in the cracks. The sweet taste of sugar swirls along the tip of my tongue. My feet shuffle after you. Your finger points towards the carousel.
The carousel’s horses trot forward and bow. The line is short. They are ready for us. I close my eyes, and step up. The swaying, sauntering motion, it is horrifying. My nails dig tight in metal rivets. My teeth clamp the fleshy insides of my jaw. My face narrows.
The music starts with a ringing clap. My heels press hard against the rotating surface. Your decorated Mare prances. It carries us through groping crowds. Greedy eyes fall on your flush features. Your star-lit skin molds into me. The rush drags glacial breath from my quivering lungs.
The deliverance is swift. We fall into The Hall of Mirrors. Its painted, fiendish smile swallows us whole.
I walk deeper down the hall. I balance on the tips of my toes. The pads of my fingers stroke cool glass. The smudges distort my nephilim reflection. The creases resurface. The curves reshape. I am the same sunken shell.
I see you dance. Your ephemeral features scatter and cascade. Your smooth, hologram hands bounce from wall to wall with the flick of your wrist. Omnipotent eyes flash wide with glinting teeth. Your angel face shadows with a chimera glaze.
My knees smack the ground. Blood surges through constricted veins. It pools in my clotted mind. My fingers scratch my singeing scalp. My eyes bead. A heated drip coats the back of my throat.
I reach to trace the jagged cracks. The mirror before me slivers and splits. My finger jerks, it stings, blood red. It shimmers across my pearl teeth. I suck my finger clean.
Your gurgling croon effaces itself. It slides through your locked teeth, trembling your jawline.
“The deal is done,” rushes ghastly, and cold from your fleshy lips.
I answer with a smile.