My mother started cutting when I was nine. On Sunday afternoons, she'd sit at the kitchen table arranging coupons into what looked like a coupon-themed game of Solitaire. She'd tuck a few under he ... [+]
I like your cold mouth
on my neck
Right after you brushed your teeth
The contour of cauliflower
I explore with only the tip of my tongue
Ticklish Chicklish
Rough edges accrued hashes
Hard
Aluminum foil blackened ashes
One for yours one mine
Your wet hair underneath my nose
Hold my hand
Home is the wrinkles laid in bed
Sometimes they get ironed out
Sometimes they dont
