Persephone
Otherworld child emerging restored to set a gentle lingering squeeze on leg or arm. And so it begins: The way you clear food from your teeth with your tongue The swagger in your hipsway The palm pressed to my chest Delicious smile betraying a distant diastema and the mascara clotted on your lashes The softness
Rachel Kadinsky
Soft fingers on rolled paper, red lips waiting. I flip the lid of my old brass Zippo from ’86, the hinge sticking in the same old place, and I grind the wheel. A sooty flame whooshes up and bursts into life, a clichéd dance of orange and blue, the sting of the kerosene hitting the
Escort Services
Amplified sounds from a short-circuiting buzzer echo through a quiet hallway, a salvo of bursts ringing out into the darkness. She’s on time, and his primal craving of love and want races headlong towards the door, wine and song. Now she talks about the Freemasons as if she’s on the board of directors, a silent