Powders and tablets tumble to the dance floor and six-inch heels grind them into a cocktail of oblivion. The plumes of God-knows-what cloud our faces and soon, we’re all getting fucked up on each other’s shit, syncing our bodies to the pounding bass of the music.
Dear Girl in the Red Sweater, Hi. You don’t know me, but I was walking my dog down North 7th when I saw you coming out of the coffee shop on Bedford. You weren’t with anyone, but you seemed pretty upset. You were on your phone and you had a look of confusion or hurt… Continue reading Sincerely
I can hear the music leaking from the pink earbuds that have snaked their way over her chest and into the port of her cracked phone; She’s snuck into my room again through the fire escape. Probably because this is where all of her secrets live. My sister flicks her thumb over the screen as… Continue reading Shattered
The birds were evil pterodactyls soaring above her; translucent claws spread waiting to tear off her flesh in one swoop.
Sometimes you hear it first. There’s a crinkling noise coming from the corner of your kitchen. You check for the open window, maybe it’s a loose breeze. But it’s been painted shut for years. Something the super should’ve fixed ages ago, considering the fact that it leads out to the fire escape. You shrug your… Continue reading Palmetto Bugs
April 2015 She goes through the motions of prepping herself for the night; eye shadow named Deep Throat; mascara called Better Than Sex; Passion red lipstick; Very Sexy lace bra, matching thong; Fuck Me heels. She rides the train instead of taking a taxi. Girls pull their boyfriends in tighter, boys peel off her clothes… Continue reading Living Sex