dream of girls on the horizon

Welded together all the lips, of all the metallic girls, unable to prise them open: their bullet eyes and torpedo breasts, lying in a tangle just outside the city. The distant solitary hill bumps up the horizon while clouds float across it in the evening light.
Me and my friend from school, sitting at the edge, on the parapet of the terrace, looking out over the heap, staring, willing the pile to rise up and march towards the city.