One way to measure the passage of time is to count the number of days since you last had sex. I’ve lost count. I only know it’s been more than three years for me and my husband—at least with each other. I know this because
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Bless the man who dismounted an elliptical just as a song blaring from a far room of the gym ended.His timing was perfect, to know when he poked his sweaty head
A few weeks before your wife left you wentferal, showed up to the houses of friendsaround dinner time, and I was out front pulling tearthumbto put in a banana tree I’d traded
My reptile mother birthed a reptile daughter – cold-blooded, always chasing sunlight. The weather turns a screw in a fractured femur, and wrenches me rheumatic with the foresight of
— After William, William, and William; Robert, Richard, Sam, and Tom In the absence of left hands and left breastsand right eyes and toes and teeth—like gathering more data, adding salt,pulling all
My knees pop and crackle like a fireplace as I kneel at her feet on the carpeted floor. I flinch—my body suddenly feels too crooked, too misshapen to be here.She smiles like redemption,
In 6th grade, a small group of boys started carrying around little, red laser beams on keyless keyrings. They were small enough to fit in the palm of the boys’ hands.
A Note on Nakedness: In my writing, bodies bend and fold; hands encircle hips, hold onto sheets; mouths make music or other arrhythmic sounds. Lovers, and those without love, lay and
Rose teaches us how to stomp!
Winner 2024 EROTIC Contest: Poetry On Miranda’s poem, judge Stephanie Cawley writes: “In the middle of ‘The Monster is God,’ the poet writes, ‘yes — no,’ the dash a stark bridge where
Ping-pong is great foreplay, I tell you one night. You’re already in bed, while I stand over it, brushing my teeth. I say I read it