I will go to her house like a good girl, drink my complimentary red, smoke something out of a window, flail my arms about to the greek music her father used to play at family dinners. I will not have, even a peak. (the handheld on her window sill, the glass, the mirror by her bedroom door) I will pick at my delivered food ("I'm just. like, not hungry") drink a couple more glasses, then be in bed by 12 (my bed not hers).
so silly
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jolie memphis
PoetrySuzanne led me over to the gap, that pale opaque liquid seeping into my skin-honey, I realised. she leaned in close, voice warm and soft, the scent of aniseed on her breath. you can be anyone you want, she whispered. I closed my eyes. who are yo...
