i want

Next time I see him, I want to beat my fists on his endless expanse of chest. I keep having visions of it, of how good it will feel. Of how I’ll really get into it, a tiny, full-blown rampage. Story goes he’ll laugh it off and eventually grab my wrists in one giant hand and pull […]

mr. kane

He likes me because of my thigh-high stockings. I know this because he told me. He’s charitable in his verbal appreciation of me. Though I can’t be certain, I suspect his loquacity probably helps dispel thoughts of his dead, manic-suicide, ex-wife. Filling up the space with sound. I’m curious as to why there are no pictures of […]

tagging the surgeon

So the surgeon suggests, three consecutive times, that we go out. Like on a date, I guess. I have a fondness for the surgeon because, despite having my number, he only ever corresponds with me occasionally. This is a good quality in a man, if you’re me. So he’s got that going for him. But I […]

the red cloak in the closet

So the big bad wolf rings me up early yesterday morning and wants to know if I’m seeing anyone. “Just like that?” I ask, because it’s been nine or ten months at least since he shut me out of his life completely and I fell on my face in tears and crawled home all dirty […]

Merikano

Because he dances around the room like he fucking owns the world, that cigarette hanging from the corner of his lip. Because he’s not intimidated by me, wondering at him, on the couch. Because he eases alongside me, looks me up and down. Because he pulls my shirt out in front like what’s underneath is […]