Old Spice
they were the only men who stayed. my fathers, the two who weren’t. Uncle Patrick — dark hair, long sideburns, a day’s stubble and a gentleness that surprised you. peppermint and tobacco, and the Mainstay snort underneath it. he drank too much and loved me tenderly, and I never felt the drink in how he
The Bank Loan
the fucking heat doesn’t shift. sweat pooling around my collarbones. another dream. the third one since Monday. waking up with the sheet twisted tight around the shins. I can’t remember the script of it, just a hum behind the ears when the eyes snapped open. nothing else moving. not even the tap dripping into the