....she who lurks beneath; the libertine, the whore, the hysteric, the ugly, the diseased, the monstrous, the villainess, the murderess, the mutilator, the evil twin. she is there; feeding, nurturing, supporting, encouraging the beautiful one, the successful one, the good one, the loved one, the surface dweller. they can not breathe in each others domain, both would suffocate, atrophy, diminish, shrivel, die. they were joined through the mirror, but its shattering shards severed the binding membrane. now they circle the other, enemies, dancing boxers, predators calculating the attack, hypnotised by sparkling beads of sweat, the soft thud of flesh to flesh. the body is torn apart by its own momentum, pain unrecognisable as a morphia of pleasure, hyper stimulated by the smell, the sight of warm sticky blood, the splitting surface, the swoon of ecstasy. adrenal exhaustion. death will turn them into lovers, burdened by the festering demands of romance. hot glued at the cunt, they retire to lick their wounds, quietly hibernating, seamlessly mutating, rationally evolving, straining for connection...

text ©Melinda Rackham