« James Duncan » Want it now like never awake, sudden sleep came hours ago left without notice window shade sways with the fan and you crave a dormant lust it came biting, quick as consciousness time means nothing but blood pulsing and beating loud loud louder and a deaf echo of a bedroom stares back through the night you want it now like never mind flashing forward for it taste it on the tongue feel it in your mind, against the sheets and tangled legs selfish and weighted steady though, hold that breath sleep might come, but won’t the night will crawl with nails bite with stone and greed the race is on inside desire grows like the wind aimless and fierce suck your lip, shift weak and destitute, turn and crawl your hand up the sheet shoulder blade smooth and feel the silk tickle of hair nose across the upward ear bodies move, hardly anything blood and needs pulse and push steady vicious craving like hellfire in December’s midnight her eyes open and your teeth to her earlobe, soft leaning in heavy breath her eyes turn and ask you lick your lips and whisper “write for me…” James H. Duncan is a New York native currently living on the road and may be horribly lost at this very moment. He reads, he writes, he naps and he can outcook your mother on Thanksgiving. His works have appeared in Ward 6 Review, Void Magazine and decomP, to name a few, and can also be seen at www.jhdwriting.com.