The first time I noticed you, nothing felt sunnier about it all than your teeth.
A smoker’s smile.
You pulled your bike over and yanked your helmet off, revealing a fallen flag of hair crumpled with sweat. I didn’t look directly in your eyes.
Until followed a hey, a particularly…
I really like your room. He says, while placing the skinny monitor on G’s desk. Must be the lighting. It really does everything. Just the right mix of yellow and white. I shift the cigarette between my fingers. It’s just a butt now. He attributes the fascination to rather the…
In the morning I wake up with the stench of mangled cabbages rising up the back of my throat and a nicotine-sullied breath and a tousled head rested obliquely upon his spindly chest and he is asleep on his back quiet like an untouched doorknob. I feel queasy. Like my…
2:15 AM. I am thinning out a brick of butter into a pan, waiting for him to intervene and scoop out another cube. Only that he is in my inbox slipping me bad puns and dad jokes. I wonder if what we share also began like this. …
