Wednesday, December 29, 2004

She Shouts "Glory Be To God" When She Comes Day

She Shouts "Glory Be To God" When She Comes Day!

"Do you always do that?" you ask. Her breasts are smaller than yours, you notice.

"Zip it," she says. She starts to get dressed. "My mom's gonna be picking me up soon."

"You could stay for dinner," you say.

"One word of this to my Mom, the kids at school, anybody, and I swear to God I'll kill you dead."

You reach out to put your hand on her hair, but think better of it. "Is that why you transferred to our school? Did you—"

"Dykes get real possessive real fast," she says. Is that what you are? A Dyke? "If you don't slice some blood from their palms right off the bat, they grab at every piece of you they can reach."

She picks up the baby blanket that you still sleep with and gently wraps it around your neck. She's looking in your eyes as she pulls it tighter and tighter. You don't gasp for air. You don't blink. You feel like you have to keep your face as hard as stone if you ever want her to come back to your room. Just hold her stare. Don't feel anything.

"I wanna tear this town to pieces," she says. "Wanna come with?"

You shrug. She loosens the blanket. Her mom honks her horn from the driveway. You just signed on to a lesbolescent life o' crime little girl.

Happy She Shouts "Glory Be To God" When She Comes Day!