You knock on her bedroom window. She’ll always take your offering. And sometimes, sometimes, she’ll open the window wide and let you in. Let you into her room and into her sweet, sweet spot. Lord have mercy, you get initiated.
I admit that I was startled when I saw him reading a newspaper in a café in Polignano the day after I killed him. The same black chin beard, long face, muscular arms. He held the paper high, with both hands, moving his head just enough to make it look like he was reading and not surveilling, as we are all taught.
Over the fence, girls in white t-shirts and ripped shorts let their legs dangle above the water, and the water ripples under the light of the bridge and downtown skyline. Across the Mississippi over its west bank small red and green and blue explosions pop in the sky. Downriver lightning flashes in the clouds over the Ninth Ward. There is no thunder.
I knew from the nights she didn’t come home and from the early mornings when she did, trembling and vomiting over the toilet. I knew, but I never spoke of it. I did not want to burden her with my knowing.
Several months before I lost my true virginity, we were smoking and eating tacos at my husband’s friend’s apartment in Dinkytown. This apartment had a girlfriend in it already, making salsa, so I had share the male attention.
SHARING MALE ATTENTION IS ONLY EXCITING WHEN THE OTHER WOMAN HAS DIFFERENT SKILLS.