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Her skin, dry from months of chemotherapy, crumbles under my touch like dead
leaves. She is sore everywhere. The wound in her belly is blood-rose-red against
her dark skin. I rub her back which hurts all the time. I rub her feet until my hands
Your starched shirt rasps my skin, friction of thin cotton. Your breath quickens as
you bend to bear me away. Your left arm curves across my shoulder and throat.
My face flushes, almost a hot flash, the shadow of an old blush. I let myself lean ...
My skin sour with the smell of fermented apples, my alcoholic sweat. Years until I
emerged from that haze, like a heat mirage shimmering up from highway asphalt,
as if I stood in the middle of a road, waiting for something to hit me. Years, and ...
What people are saying - Write a review
LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - ehough75 - LibraryThing
Amazing. Loved every aspect of this book. She shows how her thoughts and process have developed and changed over the years with both conversaitons, debates, and encounters with the people she has met ... Read full review
LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - dancingwaves - LibraryThing
An amazing book of vignettes that explore the ideas and intersections of love, sexuality, gender, and identity. A beautiful love letter to her partner, Leslie Feinberg. Read full review