In it
Sorrow a monotonous tune, like the weeping of this lonesome cunt. I cry because I am two hours behind his time zone always, and maybe that means I am also two hours behind grieving us always.
Flash Nonfiction
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.
![A response to, in conversation with, with regards to, The Entire [REDACTEDRED] of [REDAC TE DRE DACTE]](https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1593705366178-d611f3fa0c2f?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&ixid=MnwxMTc3M3wwfDF8c2VhcmNofDh8fHN0ZWFtcHVua3xlbnwwfHx8fDE2ODIxODIwMjY&ixlib=rb-4.0.3&q=80&w=720)
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.
To the Tampon
men aren’t supposed to bleed.
Spineless
I swam. I dove under, let go of the float and remembered my body. I’ve been obsessed with invertebrates and wanted to be spineless. I came back to the surface and swam to the concrete retaining wall at the edge of the lake to pull myself out of the water.
I'm Sorry We're Getting Married
I love you, Harry. And I’m excited that we can be married for most of our lives. What does that mean, though, when we can already love each other for most of our lives whether the government is involved or not.
my sticky sweet(s)
In the spaces between the two of you, I snuggle up for comfort.