I leaned in to kiss him for the first time, and when our lips touched I felt the sensation of cold marble against my skin. I woke up with my lips against his headstone, realizing I had been sleepwalking again.
Before me lay the dance floor, an ocean of sweaty skin and whispering lips; of woman with claws grasping onto men with eyes like wandering spyglasses. I dove in, hoping upon hope that one breath could get me to the other side.
An hour passed until she came back from the bathroom.
“Twiggy,” I said, “want a cookie?”
My girl’s skin is so pink and soft.
I wonder how I can get it off?