“Look, Chica, writers write. You’re failing yourself. You’re failing us. What do I have to do, bust a pipe and let water flood this idleness out of you?”
“No!” I scooted back against the pillows of my bed. “I mean, please don’t. I’ll try. I’ll try tonight… only… please turn off the cold first? I can’t feel my fingers.” I held out my hands. They were rapidly turning blue.
“Twenty-four hours, wordwench, or I come back and turn you to an icicle.”
The mask was broken into three large pieces, laying on the tile floor. Earlier… Muzzy from sex, she murmured to her partner, “Are you ever going to show me your face?” “Does it matter so much? A face to put with the body you’ve been touching, caressing?” “What you look like doesn’t […]
Note: I am not a poet. I don’t enjoy writing poetry and I’m not good at it. I’m posting this here purely for archival purposes. The morning air was heavy, humidity coating flesh in rime The surface of the pond was murky, covered in thick, green slime The birds were chittering amongst themselves, calling […]
