I was seventeen, so he was a man — had I been older, maybe not.

He was super into God. He was super into church. And he was super into me

the man who touches you also touches
the other women of the city, this special
man who you chose to be your first man
even after you’ve met so many men who
wanted to know you as a woman

The solidity of contact is registered first in the hands. The knowledge radiates outward from there. 

Wrigley had put out a study claiming that gum chewing increased performance on assessments and my elementary school took it as gospel, sending letters home asking for us to bring it on test days. Marshall brought Big League Chew. 

I’m on a date with this dude, the guy’s gorgeous, and ripped, skin all sunburnt like a surfer with big white teeth and confident eyes.  It’s all too sexy.  But I’m on guard.  I want to deny him but

You elaborate: Christmas just makes people emotional. "No," she says, raking at her hair with French-tipped nails. "I don't think so."

I want to deny him but he’s playin’ it natural and attentive.  He’s good but I ain’t sure if he knows he’s good or if he’s just as polite as he’s coming off.

THE TENSION

Sliced peach cool

under fresh yoghurt,

steaming creamy coffee,

the slow, dark wake of an October morning.

Difficult to pull myself

away from comfort and

the waves of

America

The radio is on a pledge drive

and living in America

is starting to feel like staying 

in the bad hotel.

Nothing to hear but selling

or silence. I’m thinking of the

 1. Pull the Release

Before opening the trunk, consider the world outside of it. Think of the miles of hot asphalt rolling underneath you. Think of the many men in the many other cars who might

The door is open, I said, just come in.

Tortellini becomes my password for everything.

I told you to stay right there and not move

I know god is real because persimmons exist.

That’s what your parents say when they come in with their Santa suits. But it’s not Saturday. It’s Tuesday. It’s time to go to school.

I sip red wine and weed / and deface anything that looks like me

There Never Was a Mainland

We burned fast that summer. The boats had stopped coming. The water kept us there. That’s the thing about islands.

We bathed at low tide. We ate shells and weeds.

It doesn’t make the sound that you think it would make. I mean, I figured it would be loud, or top-heavy. But it sounded like almost nothing, like water dripping from a shower faucet three rooms

Before roosting in the city, starlings dive—
five thousand deep in flock. Like cells they follow the
law of localization. Bound by surroundings. Step into a

crowded elevator and take on