THE WAY IT CAN BE - gay degani

Josh fired a blunt, sucked it down, exhaled a borealis of smoke. A trick, she thought as he moved on her, his hands pirating her breasts, her belly, her legs, between her legs; him constructing crystal edifices; her fingers stretched taut in search of sparklers, prism splinters, clusters of coincidence.

Gay Degani
About Things That Are Lost and the Places That Things Get Lost By
Andrea Kneeland