La Amenaza

She was entirely self-seeking and effective steaming up from mud streets of tijuana with a flat synthetic vulgar entirely electric like a cinematic sequence featuring the garden of delights and barrels of sex masturbation. Technical and convincing of imploring a young mans rotten whiffs of a progressive school. The evening blew of blue kerosene tanks and tape recorders luminous like falling flakes of sky. He had it situated in the corner and could still taste the anxiety crossed and charted so that memory tracks the absurd change. She gave a weak chirp and her assistant came from shadows of the shop with knife and leather. The whistle hung from her nipple piercing bounced quickly so that sound could be imagined and blossom like a tambourine membrane. The window watcher was accustomed to telepathic exchange but his voice was clear and forgiving. An extraordinary phenomenon of whistles from lips broken at birth till death lurks like poisonous cloud belts over the mechanical controls. She holds her pressure gauge skin tight against her suit of transparent delicacy. The heat here kills what you call lust and just when you thought, it was snatched from your cerebral fire like music from speakers to ears. She inspects his eyes closely, their eyelashes lash out of energy towards each other, the cigarette smoke slowly rises up her body, following each curve till past towers intersect the memory of it. The burning itch swells our tongues and lips and taste of caustic lagoons looms like railway vibrating feedback. The assistant led him to a cubicle lined with old newspaper clippings and the stench of flash bulbs and formaldehyde. He could hear the beating of his heart and the shifting of intestines as she brought in the electrodes and attached them to parts of penis and thigh. The water bottle test shook his nerves within himself drooling like a mastiff at young boy just his size.
He stood shaking under floodlight and tape recorder clicks.