I remember a simpler time. Exchanging glances on the viranda of that corner store we used to frequent. Your finger gently taking advantage of the tip of my butt crack on the city bus. Your face and your voice were different every time but i knew it was you, my sweet warrior. I long for the days we would sit in your storage unit breathing paint fumes, sipping on hairspray, and masturbating to old issues of Exotic. Don't go! Not just yet. Join me for one last wild ride down the public thoroughfare that is my life.
Get the best of the Mercury each week in your inbox!