‘Take all of this,’ Paul looks at me, ‘pull out every drop of air left in me.’ I watch Paul take another bite of our hand-picked rice. ‘Fill my insides, coat the walls with body.’ As he talks little pieces of rice fly like snowflakes in winter.
I then begin to notice this smell, it is a deep husky and pinchy smell. I notice Paul has now begun to sit on the floor. Little strands of steam emanate from his forehead and from his ears I see something grow. Pieces of white slowly grow in his ears. From both ears, I begin to notice they are marshmallows.
Paul begins to talk, his voice slowly skips and hums quicker. I hear words, every now and then, hello, god, this body, your body, pleasure, have pleasure, be pleasured…
Paul is praying, and with every word I feel the air dropping from his being. With the deflating of his being, I smell his insides. I wonder what god smells, I wonder what Paul feels.