I remember the heat of him as he would Push up against me, Gin-fouled and Smelling of Camel Wides. “I love you, baby,” He would say. “You stink,” I would remark. He would give the bar-story of a Thousand words that would drip sour Onto my breasts, as he moved Closer to my lips. “Stop,…
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TO THE SKY, TO THE LIGHT
He lingered in the doorway, tall and dark. And bright too, in the glow of the sun that sizzled his face.