Two men smoking cigarettes on Bleecker could mean anything
to each other.

Fifteen years before my autism diagnosis - the year I chopped off all my hair with jagged scissors - I hid a not inconsequential baggie of hash in my dorm room closet. I was, as always, trying to

Do you remember the names of everyone you swallow

Here’s the plan: we’ll become high-class prostitutes. “Courtesans,” I say, “like ancient Greece.”

Jay arrived once a week, every week, for sex. He was a dental student, worked  Wednesdays at a clinic near my house so it was easy for him to call to see if I was free. I made sure that I was. He

tree tree tree tree calvin calv hobbes

I know that I should be sad, or at least look sad, or somber, as I go through the things in Johnny’s room.

A man was arrested for creating a labyrinth in an IKEA.

doesn’t know how to give a PROPER blowjob
The spittle
of the sea
                        otherwise known as Jamaica Pond
dries hard on her eros:erring:elbow still deeper
resonating
in her

I don’t respond and two hours later he sends a photo of the dog.

Alice sighs in the way only British people can sigh. Maybe it’s all the rain they have inhaled.

We went back and forth, hyping each other up, talking about the best summer of our lives and how we would never be this young again and if we pet an alpaca everyone would be jealous.

Wind, always strongest by water, whistles and whooshes, knocks a girl off her feet.

I am searching for the type of room that would change my life if I lived there, you know the one.

“Bandeau,” I type into the Tumblr search bar. The results load like a quilt of skin.

I'm waiting for influenza in Virginia. Or the taste of something metal.

She could eat. She could get a little plump, not so plump that he wouldn’t like it, but plumper than before she knew him, when she had to stay thin and dainty so she could get married and become plump, though no more than he liked.

After last night, I’m no longer allowed at The Mint Bar. You could say it’s because I choked the owner’s daughter up against the wall next to the jukebox that only plays Cash songs—pushed her hard enough that a quarter fell from the coin slot—or you could say she deserved it.

I’m in accounting. Sally in the lab. Among her other duties, Sally is an odor judge. Her nose is rather ordinary to look at, what my grandma might have called a button nose. But Sally’s nose is legend.

The Chetrams were from Trinidad and listened to Bollywood music on the weekends. They were good, hardworking people. Their kids were polite. They were not Muslims as far as their neighbors could tell, since Chetram liked Miller Lite and the daughter wore high-waisted shorts in the summer. It was not polite to inquire.