Draft 1/Draft 5 I write creative nonfiction, and that means that I lay in your arms and think about how I would describe it, our bodies next to each other in the dark while it storms outside, how I ask you to leave the fan off so we can hear it.
Exposition I survived a knife between my ribs, / strings cutting into sponge-berry flesh, / blooming rose wound around my wrists.
How to Clean Filters: An instruction manual You heard it’s best to step away from it for a while. You decide to let the story rest for a few days/weeks/months. It sounds like you deserve a break, anyway; you watch as your computer switches off.
A response to, in conversation with, with regards to, The Entire [REDACTEDRED] of [REDAC TE DRE DACTE] Long spidery clockwork orange lashes and you hate to be shushed like that by your mum or other grown-ups or anyone. And you will still not know what sex is for years, years after you did it even.