Fiction

I sat down on my brother Wolff’s bed. “Wolffie wake up.” I was worried I had cut it too close.

Open up the longing I am offering you; give me that velvet you wrap around your head with sickening tightness;

Every eye in Britain is staring at the same door. It’s not a particularly nice door; it’s really rather drab,

My mama always told me “never immortalize your tits.” She used to be a nude model back at the university

Anapa and I entered the wine god’s garden to destroy him. The wine god’s door was deep within the House