Love Las Muertas

walk with the vengeful ghosts of the past! purrs Encarnación, you have never

known such thrills of terror! death! rotting creeping lurking death!

the ghost-train's lurid neon silhouettes her face, bleaching

the roses nestled in her hair whiter than bone. her dress cups

 

acorn-brown curves. I step up and press coins into her palm,

ready for un poco de aventura. a barrier click-click-clicks

towards my knees; the car judders my bones, chatters my teeth.

yellow petals seesaw to the tracks, cobwebs tangling in my

 

eyelashes. a dozen girls with Encarnación's face flit past,

whispering kisses along the part of my hair, tickling

their hems along the cuticles of my nails. a trio of bone-men

strum guitars and candy-coloured skulls flash in strobes.

 

outside, knees quaking, I totter for the exit.

I blow a kiss to Encarnación's soft

angles, her ruffled dress, her

bone-white rose.