Blank Street Books by Emily Allison Turonis

I.

Do you want it to hurt now or later?
Now, you nod,
as you´re acquainted with the interest
pain accrues.
But regardless of the decision made,
it will hurt all the time;
now, tomorrow and somehow
yesterday.

II.

Never had there been something
like it, savage and red,
saliva and nipples
on green countertops
desperately
on the expensive white couch.

III.

Though you thought you had,
you had never heard his voice,
until he, standing playfully akimbo
and staring into his glass of white wine,
called you pathetic.