Thursday, June 13, 2013


In the moonlight, she looked like some kind of reptile. The way vertebrae jutted a highway down her back. The sinuous shadow fabricating a tail down the back of her leg. The toppled spines of her purple-dyed mohawk, plastered to her cheek with sweat.

I probably could have found something better to do at 4:00am, with the night's worth of absinthe and rum still striking matchsticks in my fingertips, but...I couldn't help but notice the similarity. I grew up with iguanas. I'm familiar with the shade of their scaly detritus.

Pale, like her.

They say don't help nature, but she was a basilisk straining to shed, her pallor pleading for fingernailed help.

Who was I to deny her?

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