Burning Powder Eric Schuman Ben Charley Ext./ Church day Jack/Priest A large gothic church, Jack looks up at the spires and gargoyles. He is drunk. Finishes a cigarette, stomps it out under his boot, walks up the steps and goes in. The church is quite, but there is a sound inside, he takes off his hat and looks up, there is a crash, Jack looks around to see where the noise came from. Jack Hello? Jack goes into the confessional. Jack sits down. A priest comes into it. Priest Oh, sorry about t...

Infinitesimally small, our atoms copulate in love, a microcosm for the world. Each time you smile the universe begins.

A single rose wouldn’t do you justice. I would need to get you a whole bed of them. A single emotion doesn’t do you justice. I utilize them all when I think of you. A single word doesn’t do you justice. I need a paragraph at least. A single song doesn’t do you justice. I wrote a whole album for you. A single story doesn’t do you justice. I have been thinking of writing a book. A single movie doesn’t do you justice. I want a series. A single poem doesn’t do you justice. I have written many.

I once met a man from outer space. Who said that he would take me to where happiness was born. We sped for light years, and in the distance Was a planet, ever growing. He said it was called… Amelia. The stars slowed and came almost to a halt, “We get off here” he said. And so I leaped, into the void. My body floated towards her, on the cosmic tidal wave. Her outstretched arms caught me and I was held like a newborn babe.

Lips erode my being. Bitterly seductive words touch my ear— or is that her tongue? Her spine feels like knots in a tree. Our mouths meet in infinity. Falling into that bottomless pit between lust and love, I smile.