I have shopped at the forbidden planet and I have located la reux san michel and I have taught myself these words, if spelled incorrectly, by listening to a man speak softly into my ears so no one else could hear.
At times I am afraid of his body for reasons that seem obstructed by clouds. I blame the news, partly, and a certain book of short stories.
At the time I did not say no. Nor did Pam, topless, but that doesn't make it consensual. Nor did he do anything wrong according to law. And still he did something wrong. These things are more complicated than we like to acknowledge. It is so much more comforting: "no" versus "yes". We forget that we speak with more than our mouths and feel with more than our bodies. Though they may quiver, though we may be both pleasured and afraid.
I pull apart the ether and grasp at fistfuls of air. All I have to bet with: a bottle of cider and acrylic paints in eight colors. I finger the cardboard but do not pick up my brushes.
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