Words by Mimi Salazar
I like 'em young.
But not too young.
I like 'em when they're poised on the brink of manhood,
past adolescence but not quite seasoned yet,
not ready for death, but ready for the forbidden.
Perhaps tattooed, and not too pumped up.
In fact, I'm not too keen on muscled boys.
Much too obvious.
I prefer a juicy burger every once in a while.
I usually stick to vegetables and fish,
but can appreciate an expensive piece of meat.
I like blood (the idea of blood anyway) and I don't care for charred meat.
I am the least visceral person I know.
I'm a bundle of infuriating contradictions.
An element of danger is always delicious.
Black film. Dark film. Ominous, ambivalent film.
A dead body, usually a woman's,
somewhere in the lush green landscape or the gloomy lobby of an elegant building.
When you least expect it.
The word 'desire' is music to the ears.
Desire, a fallen angel who knows how to kiss.
A lithe demon who carries the memory of hell in his little black heart.
Must be heaven.
A taste for expensive meat and the dank, green smell of rotting gardens.
Despair. The word 'despair' excites me.
The eerie cadences of high mass, sung in latin.
Dead languages. Pretty to the ears.
The word 'agony'. Close to death, but not quite yet...
You keep me hanging on.