Sense Memory
When I taste salt I remember kissing your neck when you’d come home from the gym, pumped up, testosterone-fueled and wanting me, the tang of dried sweat on your skin, the beat of your heart drumming against my lips.
When I taste salt I remember kissing your neck when you’d come home from the gym, pumped up, testosterone-fueled and wanting me, the tang of dried sweat on your skin, the beat of your heart drumming against my lips.
Eleven things I remembered this month that I should remember.
Eleven things about my work that I need to remind myself about once in a while.
Writing is how I process my life, and how I try to change the ending.
Routine can be a lifeline, but sometimes you trip over it.