Recently I saw a production of Macbeth where the Macbeths were so turned on in every scene

they shared;

each line delivered into the others’ chin, breathed

into each others’ necks,

fronts pressed together, so fucking

hot about killing.


Maybe before we fuck I could dash out the brains of a new born.


I could negotiate with nature & make my breastmilk taste like seawater,

I could kill all your friends or convince you to kill them,

and I could go after,

drag my hands through their blood –

make the murder scene look perfect.


Then when you call me bad girl I might come this time



Jessica Rhodes