Fiction/CNF

i have seen my lifeless body. it has its own name that sounds nothing like mine. it lives in the bathroom stall of some restaurant, bloody & left behind. in the ditch down the street from the university, rain falling on its silence. […]

In Singapore, halfway through her journey, Nandini sits in a cramped room memorizing her fact sheet. Hot air swirls inside the walls, unmoved by the lethargic, creaking ceiling fan. All five of them have been stacked in here for a week—Nandini, her mother, her three little brothers. Her fa-ther had stayed behind in Sri Lanka. […]

Lauren had big tits, swollen and weighted down with bologna-sized areolas, like she’d been waiting a very long time for someone to milk her. Maybe it was her tits, maybe it was the pink ribbon tied in a bow around her neck, but the sight of her made me want to moo. […]

She couldn’t see or feel it yet, but it was there. All that wet wanting to exhale from the sky. I’m walking fast because it’s about to pour. She had the explanation, the dismissive yet biting tone all ready before she got past the school parking lot. In her head, it was perfect. But on her tongue, it was useless. She’d never use it. She’d never say a thing. […]

In this down south gay bar, leather jacket men stand w/ arms crossed. Trade, he walks by, walks by & holds glances. For a $5 cover charge, we all agree: push hand away if NO & hold gaze, jerk head if you’re down for whatever. & I do mean for whatever. […]

We can’t seem to stop buying plants. We’re both 25, suddenly adults, and the plants feel like we’re doing it right. Well, Charlie is the one who takes care of the plants and I do nothing but try to stay away. But the living green leaves and Charlie’s daily waterings make me feel capable by proxy. […]

We’re horseshoeing towards the Oregon coast, me with May, us keeping each other awake, talk departing our heads. We’re in a car, slouching, feeling clayed. We pass lumber yards, the sweat rings on ball caps of the Pacific Northwest, the tree trunks carried as cargo like battering rams in cribs, all labor. […]

There’s a poster of Wonder Woman on the wall beside my bed. She’s standing with her feet apart, her hands in fists on her smooth, round hips. I know she’s a superhero, but I don’t know what a superhero is. […]