Desire twisted me inside a damp wood, caught me up the way fires do even the greenest twigs, how they smolder, how fire spreads, turns, switches back, and re-burns.”
Maddy Procter stood in the boys’ bathroom. Nobody pulled their pants down.
Josh and Frankie and Paul loitered by the spots designated for peeing but they stayed tucked in.
You can run on Catechism like it’s gasoline. Wipe your grime on the gauze that covers your intimate places. So then, a life tinted yellow, malaised, maized, amazed.