Cult of Two Read online

  For Lang,

  In your eyes I see myself. I see the love

  we never thought was possible.

  Cult of Two

  Introduction

  Cult of Two is my fifth book, but it feels a lot like my first.

  For those of you who are familiar with my work, don’t be surprised if you discover the ghost of Dirty Pretty Things hiding somewhere within the pages.

  In fact, I should warn you now—this book is fucking haunted.

  Things may go bump in the night when you read it.

  The words are dripping with magic and mischief. So please be careful not to let this rather strange book possess you. Like it did me, writing it.

  Red roses and broken hearts.

  My gift to you.

  On this cold winter’s night.

  All my love,

  — Michael xo

  I Am the Girl

  In the quiet times—

  when I think about my life,

  you come to me,

  banging pots and pans

  inside my head,

  your voice screaming—

  I am the girl

  you’ll never forget.

  A Certain Something

  You had a certain something about you. A strange, brooding darkness that was incredibly sexy and somewhat impossible to ignore. Whenever you smiled, it was like the sun breaking through the storm.

  The Last Days of Summer

  Perhaps it was the rhythmic chant of cicadas that lulled me into this calm state of being. The last days of summer—in all its glorious sunsets and fading colors. Nature’s delightful, intoxicating, narcotic. Freeing my mind from the chaos of simply breathing.

  A Midnight Call

  Be careful—

  someone might be listening.

  I can almost hear

  that rebellious smile

  in your silent reply.

  The one you wear

  so well on rosy lips.

  Your hushed moans

  begin again,

  becoming louder.

  Pretty mouth—

  pressed up against

  the hotel phone.

  Love Defined

  Burn all the dictionaries, tear up the tired metaphors, and tell the poets to go to hell. For you are the true definition of love. The only one I shall ever need.

  Only You Could Write

  A wave explodes—

  the slow rumble

  of thunder,

  swirling sand

  and seaweed.

  A paperback novel—

  resting on a bed

  of broken seashells,

  the pages open—

  a sentence underlined

  in pencil gray.

  You kiss me—

  the scent of weed

  lingering on lips,

  only you could

  write a sunset

  this beautiful.

  Holding hands

  beneath tangerine skies,

  a sea of rolling fire

  and flying fish,

  a daydream made real—

  in the shutter click

  of an eyelid.

  Sticky Tape

  My fingers pull

  clear sticky tape

  from nipples,

  just as you orgasm—

  how exquisite

  the pleasure found,

  in so little pain.

  Our First Breath

  When we enter this world,

  knowing nothing of life,

  how ironic—

  our first breath

  begins with tears.

  How Strange

  How strange these late nights—dreaming of sleep. Listening to the owls sing and thinking about you.

  Daffodils

  My obsession for you—

  black ribbons untied

  in a cheap airport motel.

  The scent of sex

  still clinging to your legs.

  Eyes mesmerized,

  spellbound—

  searching for answers.

  Do daffodils cry

  when the sun is shining?

  It’s the Little Things

  It’s the little things I love the most. The beauty found in the mundane. Strawberry jam and toast crumbs—a morning kiss.

  Chopping Onions

  Chopping onions

  on a Wednesday night—

  how strange the things

  we remember,

  when our world

  is falling apart,

  disintegrating—

  in slow motion.

  I’m not sure

  who cried the most,

  impossible to tell

  when tears hide

  behind tears.

  Not that it matters,

  when a bottle

  is empty,

  the wine finished—

  and so are we.

  You and Me

  You once told me that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for finding love.

  I Had No Idea

  A light rain shower

  in bright sunshine—

  that’s how you

  hid your sadness,

  my eyes blinded

  by your smile,

  mistaking the tears

  for happiness.

  A Secret Place

  I can take you to a secret place, somewhere not far from here, where the desert stars sing lullabies to the brokenhearted.

  After the Party

  A sweet hint

  of summer strawberries,

  on glistening lips

  stained sticky red.

  Our first kiss—

  under a waning moon,

  adrift in a sea

  of silent black.

  A bra strap falls,

  breathy notes

  by fingers played—

  on blades of green

  beneath twisted trees.

  A whisper of silk

  on midnight thigh,

  as panties drop

  with gentle sigh.

  Never Us

  It was always about you. Seldom me. And never us.

  You Moved On

  You moved on—

  before the dust could settle.

  So fast—

  not even a single strand

  of silver cobweb

  was left behind

  to hold on to.

  No spider could spin

  a web that quickly.

  All the Time I Possess

  All the time I possess, from milliseconds to hours, blessed days to precious years—I give it all to you.

  To Be in Love

  Dappled sunlight

  slowly dancing

  on goose-bumped

  winter skin.

  A dawn begins

  for naked bodies,

  a mad dash—

  from silver sand

  to waiting sea.

  How glorious it is

  to be in love,

  to be young—

  to be free.

  In Love with Words

  I’m not just in love with words, I’m possessed by them. My life con
sumed by the twenty-six letters of the alphabet and all the countless possibilities they bring to a page. How beautiful this world of dust and cobwebs. Where the pen is mightier than the vacuum cleaner.

  Fingers Burnt

  A bad relationship can be defined by the striking of a match. The longer you hold on to it, the greater the likelihood of getting your fingers burnt.

  Look at Me

  “Look at me,” you cry—

  a hand between

  your legs.

  Hardcore masturbation

  in all its primal glory.

  A hips rising,

  eyes closing,

  mouth opening,

  toes curling—

  private show

  for one.

  Herding Cats

  You told me to stop letting my emotions run away from me. But how can I? Herding cats in the dark with one arm tied behind my back would be easier than controlling these feelings I have for you.

  Burnt Toast

  A wisp of smoke

  in morning sun,

  a slice of toast,

  ignored, forgotten.

  Left to burn—

  its meaning lost,

  the slow decay

  of happiness,

  from golden brown

  to cinder black.

  Not even honey

  can take away

  the bitter aftertaste.

  When depression

  is served up,

  in bite-sized pieces.

  A Slow Pirouette

  You took my hand and made it yours. Guiding my fingers beneath the hem of your panties. Showing me exactly how you wanted to be touched—like a ballerina in the spotlight doing a slow pirouette.

  Crazy

  It was the fear

  of losing you,

  that drove me away—

  I realize now

  just how crazy

  that sounds.

  It was my insecurity,

  my self-doubt,

  that slowly trapped me—

  like a straightjacket

  tailor-made for one.

  And not even

  your undying love

  could free me—

  from myself.

  Never Close Enough

  There’s no denying we had chemistry and a strong desire to be together. Yet somehow you were never willing to make a commitment. Close but never close enough.

  Like walking on a tightrope in high heels.

  We Didn’t Fall in Love

  We didn’t fall in love—

  it was more like

  the slow descent

  of a feather

  on a windless day.

  A leaky tap

  filling an ocean,

  drip by drip.

  Like our world

  had forgotten

  how to turn.

  In a universe

  high on morphine.

  Happy New Year

  Years may come and go but my love for you is a never-ending fireworks show.

  Perhaps

  The inability to be decisive—

  to ponder love

  with no conclusion,

  to give hope

  when all is hopeless,

  there is no divide

  more divisive.

  Never Again

  You asked me to give you a second chance and all you gave me back was a repeated mistake.

  Unforgettable

  I can still

  remember when—

  we carved our love

  into the bark

  of winter trees.

  Your smile

  never forgotten—

  always found.

  Wandering—

  in the forest

  of past lovers.

  Black Rain

  The pitter-patter

  of droplets bleak,

  no end in sight,

  no grief complete—

  this endless sorrow

  of which I speak.

  How Love Feels

  A lull in the storm. The sparkle of sunshine held by the rain. This is how love feels. Just when you thought everything was lost.

  Screaming Sex

  Swirling smoke

  from the last drag

  on a dying joint.

  You strike a pose

  wearing black leather

  crotchless panties.

  Giving me—that look.

  Doe-eyed innocence

  meets bitten lip.

  Beautifully perverse,

  breathtaking—

  a silent surrender.

  Screaming sex

  without saying

  a single word.

  Rebellious Spirit

  Love is a rebellious spirit that doesn’t seek permission or ask for approval.

  Unbreakable

  Thrown sticks

  and hurled stones,

  all the fucking lies

  and dirty tricks—

  never let them

  break you.

  Inside Every Cherry

  In matters of love it’s tempting to be picky. But never forget, inside every cherry, no matter how delicious—you’ll always find a stone.

  The Eleventh First Date

  “I do rather enjoy these random little drives into the country. How we always seem to find a quiet place to park. Far away from prying eyes,” Sophia said, quickly checking her lipstick in the rearview mirror.

  “This spot looks perfect,” I replied.

  Sophia pressed down on the brake pedal and slowly steered the white Bentley into the rest stop, which was surrounded by beautiful oak trees and overlooked a vista of rolling green fields.

  “Yes this will do nicely,” she said, turning off the ignition.

  I could already hear the excitement in her voice as she unclipped her seat belt and pulled up her gray pleated cotton skirt, revealing a pair of white panties and pale winter thighs.

  “You know, this dirty little game of yours is quite mad and terribly kinky.”

  “Oh, hush now,” she cooed, opening her legs a fraction wider on the tan leather seat. “Just pretend it’s our first date again and give my pussy a damn good fingering.”

  —

  The afternoon sun slowly slipped away behind the trees—leaving behind a dying sky of sunset orange and shadowy clouds.

  “It’s such a crying shame we only get to live a single lifetime,” Sophia sighed.

  I took her delicate hand in mine and pressed it to my lips. Softly kissing each finger. “Every second spent with you is a lifetime. Every hour—an eternity.”

  I Want Your Love

  I want your love—

  every color

  of the rainbow.

  Every drop

  of winter rain.

  And when you

  give it to me—

  it will never

  be enough.

  Perfection

  Perfection is a race that can never be won.

  Riding the Subway

  Lifeless verse—

  written with a dead pen.

  Black ink spilt

  on a cold December,

  riding the subway

  in an endless loop.

  Where lonely drunks

  meet rejected lovers.

  A swig of sorrow

  inside every bottle,

  but never enough

  to dull the pain.

  A brown paper bag

&
nbsp; therapy session—

  of shattered dreams

  and broken hearts.

  Priorities

  Possessions are temporary. There are no storage units in the afterlife.

  The Mad Princess

  She wore a silver tiara

  and white bikini,

  dancing backward

  across the sand.

  In her palace—

  only madness reigns.

  This princess

  doing somersaults,

  chasing thunderbolts—

  drinking champagne

  in the rain.

  The Hardest Goodbye

  I knew I had to set you free. To put my feelings aside and let love slip through my fingers. It wasn’t easy. But if you try to keep hold of a butterfly—you run the risk of crushing it.

  The Broom Closet

  There was an almost surreal element to Serena’s sexual desires.

  And tonight was no exception.

  There were no scattered rose petals or tiny lit candles.

  Just a trail of strawberry sherbet sprinkled down the hallway. Which I followed until I reached the end point—a broom closet. Where a pink postage note was stuck to the door with the words, Sex lives here, scribbled in green pen.

  I took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Serena was standing inside. Her naked body lit by a single lightbulb. I could see she had tipped the last remains of the sherbet over her pussy.

  She flashed me a mischievous smile and said, “Lick it clean.”

  Her words were not so much a request but a command. So I did as I was told. I knelt down on the wooden floorboards and roughly parted her pussy lips with my fingers. I began to lick and suck on her clitoris, feeling the tingle of the sherbet on my tongue.

  Serena pressed her hips into my face and started to moan.

  I kept up the rhythm, slow and steady, until I felt her hand tap my shoulder. It was the signal to stop and give her what she so desperately desired.

  A good hard fucking.

  Now it was my turn to be the boss.

  I got up off my knees, stood up, and unbuckled my black leather belt. Threading it through the loops, one by one, until it was free.