Literature
100 Sentences About The Man I Love
When you kiss me, I see fireworks behind my squeezed-shut eyes.
You tasted the language of your ancestors on my tongue and told me I felt like home.
With your grandfather’s crucifix clutched in my fingers, I made bargains with God.
We met on the last hot day of an Indian November.
I loosened my morals, and then your belt, but you never seemed to mind.
All I’ve gotten for the past two years is a face full of tears, and I don’t want to keep growing old without you.
We were starving when we met.
After I die, will they publish the love letters I never sent in a neat little book?
I never took note of the phases of the moo