Memory becomes present reality as wind caresses my sun-seared skin. They’re here, in the way water wraps around us, The sounds we made, the way they knew just how to handle us, how to coax from us our submission. The epic of how they fucked us written in goose bumps across our skin. If you

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There are secrets hidden under finger nails. I have never been good at keeping my own secrets, by design. I keep the secrets of others securely tucked beneath my toe nails, which have never been the bedfellows of my teeth. My sixth sense is in my finger tips. I have been chewing away their armor

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