The Devil licks its fingers clean from the breaking of hearts. Fingers wiped on the walls of a karaoke bar.
The bar top is wet, but not from what you think.
She looked me up and down. Her hair was black like a nest of shadows all tangled together. She picked up my beer by its neck and finished it.
The gore in my legs twisted. I stared into her eyes—black as a dying star.
We left together.
The Devil sang “Total Eclipse of the Heart” in the background.
The floor was slippery, but not from what you think.