Monthly Archives: August 2014

His lips clutched my shoulder like a cliffhanger. Just kiss me, I said. He touched his lips to the crescent in my chest. Just kiss me. I felt his five o’clock shadow on my neck. Just kiss me, I whispered. … Continue reading →

Sweet Caroline wasn’t my best decision, but I wasn’t embarrassed. We were all in one of those moods where we didn’t sit upright and all our wrongs were slipped in our back pocket. And then he sang about a boxer. … Continue reading →

We don’t bruise that well, you see. Our wounds won’t escape our flesh, burying our pain layer after layer. Even our faults felt comfortable, like a squeaky floorboard or a loose drawer knob. But even fault lines have to break. … Continue reading →