I kissed your iliac crest, then you shaved my head, then we watched a movie. I rode my bike to your house. I spent the night in your bed. When I woke up, you were looking right through me. Twenty-one and a half, reading Sylvia Plath, wondering why you would choose me. I made it bigger than it was, that’s what an artist does. We don’t have so much history do we....















