"I reached out to Cosmo online! They’re doing a segment on terminally online gays with non-terminal cancer!!"

Abigail’s face blotched with hot blood. I made my way to the back of the room, ordered a whiskey at the open bar, repainted my lips cherry red.

Yesterday, The Coffee Cart Guy on 38th and 6th had sex with Rachel on the floor of his metal breakfast cart. 

Then, she reached out a slender arm and Max thought she was going to grant him magic powers, but she just took the rest of his Pringles.

When taking drugs of this caliber – drugs that show you death’s light – there is always some part of you that wants to die.

When she looks back at me, there’s a saturnine hopelessness in her eyes I understand too well.

Wild as the jungles they came from,
where boas flexed around their trunks —
like my other brushes with miracles,
the men who love you back, how they come
to you, gorgeous and invasive,

Jimmy’s thing was his violent ability in soccer. Bismarthalou’s was in his preposterous name and the mystifying way in which he spoke of his potentially fictitious motherland.

“There’s no reason to spread melodramatic rumors about the delay of the album,” she says

When they first met dirty talk felt like solving timed coding challenges at a job interview.

She was the sudden presence that filled the delivery room like a creation spirit pressing his thumb to make a wrinkle in space.

I fall asleep on the First Date. It happens when we're cresting the chain hill of a roller coaster called Sallie Mae.

When I was ten years old something happened, an event I never understood

I've finished packing and am leaving. Ten, nine, eight, seven . . . .

There’s something so sexy about a hot girl apologizing for my behavior.

Toothpaste dripped and stained the rubber grip. The bristles were yellowed, fanned out and frayed, like a spiky cleaning tool that should go nowhere near the mouth. Some of the bristles were actually hairs.

What the Mother wanted to show us might be different from what we wanted to see.

“My grandma drinks that,” the kid ahead of me at Duane Reade snarks at my six-pack of Ensure bottles.

Blisters is a game where you sit on the floor on either side of a candle and hold little fingers like a pinky swear above the flame until someone lets go.
 

It’s me and Helena. Helena and me.

this one guy keeps trying to talk about the impoverished state of the arts which among other things is making me desperately want to do the drugs I brought

Zack was total destruction, demonic possession.

A diagram shows a mother with porn-star proportions holding her breast, pinching the nipple, milking herself into the cylinder. Squirt, Shake, Wait, the directions tell me.

Her robe came open; it was like hugging an ice sculpture swan. I shivered.

The attic room in the student town of Ordrecht went for 365, 52 euros monthly, not including the safety-deposit, called borg in Dutch.

“Lucky boy, just too late. Because we have crisis in Holland,