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The Bodyexpand_moreRemember that innocence is risky, memory inconclusive.
Kenny Wade makes do with short-term schemes and part-time work.
I am left with little Rome for error. I choose wrong, then I revise.
A wildness and all the ways I could never be classy enough for pearls.
So here’s the tale, the rumor of the body, and we have to tell it.
An eye trained only for darkness makes for a lesser path, in art as in life.
Now the scalpel is slippery; how will I know where to make the cuts?
In Astoria, Leo and I find a small church on our way to the river.
Throwing the El Camino into drive, he roared down the mountain road.
The new generation doesn’t play war, which is a shame; they text.
When we move together in the dark I can almost get to him but I turn back.
Sing to your sisters in the water, let your arms and lashes flutter.
Her body too, a mystery in motion. But does she own her body?
She alone knew how he could be swept up, tender interior laid bare.
I measured your breath with my breath, your foot with my thumb.
Jenifer Browne Lawrence
I feel delicious tody! I can claim the whole lawn with just one flamingo.
On the swings in the park, a woman sounds an off-key minor chord.
You have to be three times better than the white kids, at everything.
If he was cheating on her, he was cheating on her paintings as well.
The voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of a hundred tacks.
there was a boy made of bad teeth & a boy made of stale bread
Sex is the closest we can come to touching where touch resides.
The thumbnail spoke directly to the most excitable parts of himself.
Eyes wide open, I offer myself to a new boy and watch him grow.
Never takes much, a fingertip’s touch, or beak-brush of prey-probing bird.
“Hey, babe,” he said, breathing into the phone like a sex maniac.
The most arcane sexual practices could arouse me from my torpor.
Real ones get through again and again.
Out by the road was her son standing without a stitch of clothing.