Notes to leave on the counter

1.

This is what you make me feel like: not hell, but heaven tipped on its head.

2.

Strangers told you I was the loveliest woman at the bar. You stroked my skin like silk, like a traded thing.

3.

I fainted at the second-to-last stop. Three seconds three minutes three slaps in, I woke up to your laughter, hushed as a brothel. All six seats at the back of the train were occupied. Twelve invisible hands on my windpipe. Shh.

4.

These days, when we fuck, I imagine your fist in my hair is a pistol.

My spine is an arched bow. My spine is a vending machine. You come, and a dozen eyeballs spill from my mouth.