Nov 22, 2018
Near a Definition
I welcomed the woman. I put a towel on my bed and lay down. I told her my burns were tender, but what I meant was I still haven’t decided what my definition of privacy is. I told her I want to know more about my legs, but I meant to say release them. Please release them. She held my kneecap like a baby’s cheek. She touched her cheek to mine, the soft grind of skin, as when I once rubbed two light bulbs together. She pressed me hard into the mattress until I slipped inside, both above and beneath a sheet of ice. When she asked me how I liked it I said I’m tired of feeling punished. When she asked me what I wanted, she answered my silence with silence.
Ryann Stevenson