The four of us were a brazen trio.
It was raining with his face in his mouth. Something black and quick and beautiful.
We used sex like a glass-bottomed boat.
One of us stared at the banana peel, half on its way.
Blocked by the plug of a rock, teetering on coming for dinner, another of us shook at the question of distances.
I held my own, trying to mistake this hair for that hair and this part for that.
I couldn't keep up, and found the reasons disturbing.
Afterwards, we fell asleep in the cold night smell.
