THE SCENT OF A MANOne smells like old books, another like aloe vera with a touch of burnt flesh, one like woody cologne, one like cigarettes, but his scent is sweet like melon, and he tastes like salt, milk, sourdough. When his skin sizzles in the pan, the sweat popping like grease, you sprinkle pepper allowing the shots of spit to bite your exposed wrist. Darling, melt and devour all of him—a meal worth the indigestion, the fight, the price. THE HUNGER OF A MAN One should not eat the apple core, the banana peel, the pit of a cherry for these are meant for the trash, but once you met a man who ate the whole apple; as if he were the disposal to carry away all discarded things, to find fodder in everything. OASIS
This morning you remembered him: dark gray buttoned-down shirt, black pants and eyes-- black like buttons. You thought him angry, but then he touched your thigh. In a classroom-- the teacher eyeing you two from the front of the room-- under the desk, your hand reached for his crotch, then you kissed. The taste of apricots and peaches filled your mouth; his tongue, a giant seed. You were reprimanded and sent to the hall. Alone, he brushed your hand away. Under the pillow, you find no fruit; across from the bed, no dusty chalkboard, only the large mirror reflecting the wall.
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