#vertebrhea

how dare you: 

she was hours of theories  scribbled in margins  drenched with your imagination  wrapped around her sleeve your favorite bass line on repeat standing deserted next to the  women scrolling aimlessly on tinder. 

thirty nine degrees / arms bent in angles  mannequins in the middle /  that shirt would be dope with a corduroy trench coat. all eyes, see/  every ( body ) knows. 

Jupiter: "Yeah, she's right here in front of me!" Li: Are you textn nd not entertainin that gorgeous ass woman in front of u? #Thot itinerary Jupiter: IKR! I can't help it. I'm so nervous I can hardly look her in the face :-(

"Looks like a pretty serious conversation your having over there. I don't think I've seen your fingers stop moving yet," Tish interrupted. Dimples as deep as craters. Jupiter smiled in return. She put her phone next to the menu and folded her hands. "What's wrong pretty girl? I make you nervous?" Tish teased. She readjusted her seat. The outlines of androgyny began to appear. The white sports bra she donned seemingly moved to the foreground, leaving the large cotton shirt dissolving in to the distance. "I think I know what you're up to but I'd rather not make any assumptions," flicking her wrist as she checked the time. "Oh really now, and what might that be?" Jupiter raised her defenses. "I'd love to hear it." Her bourbon skin began to melt into itself; clasping her fingers together as she pleaded with herself that staring isn't polite. "Well, if I'm allowed to be frank.." "And you are.." Tish releases a slight laugh, "you texting yo homegirls what's too forward right now. Your energy is extremely erotic right now but your body is rigid." Sweat began to erupt from her pores. The palms of her hands couldn't take the heat any longer so they threw themselves across her thighs - one hand a piece, both meeting simultaneously, stuffing her dress where she'd rather Tish's face to be. "I'm not one to be so bold and I've never been read like that before so you make it a bit hard to lie right now. You're right. You got this one. I've been sitting here across from you for nearly an hour, watching the sun highlight your broad nose. Curious how many times have you seen secrets in my eyes. I've looked at the length of your hands and asked myself if finger fucking is considered second base or third. I've been thinking about a lot. I been thinking. While we're drinking" bursts in to a chuckle. "well... that my dear, I was not expecting. But thank you for your honesty" Tish gripped her ponytail and freed her strands, allowing them to cascade along the strong curve of her jaw, resting on her neck and dangling over her shoulders. Her deep brown eyes narrowed as she looked at Jupiter and said, " I saw you about two years ago at a bar near Baynard Street and we locked eyes for about five seconds. I thought you were dating the young lady you walked in with so I looked at you from the bar on occassion. I wanted to talk to you then but it wasn't my time. Relax, you don't have a reason to be nervous around me."

Jupiter couldn't resist herself. This newfound independence was overbearing and exhilirating. She'd spent the last few years in an empty relationship, fearing that she'd die the same way she'd succomb; at the mouth of a beautiful woman.

"Thank you ladies for your patience. I'm extremely sorry about my delay," the waiter apologized. "It's cool."

"One water with no ice for you ma'am. One water with lemon for you, ma'am." "Thank you" "Thanks. I love attention to detail," Tish noted. "We're ready to order if you are" "And what can I get for you ladies today?" Jupiter interjected, " the lady would like an Amaretto sour, and I'll have one shot of tequila neat, please."

Tish shifted her head, tracing Jupiter's assertiveness. Now here was a woman she'd never expected; attractive; commanding her attention. The maroon and oranges and yellows in the sky made sense; colors flinging themselves atop another without ease. Jupiter replaced the glass after her sip. Tish grabbed her hand and held it a while. 

Adrienne Deniece Lansing DeeDee to her friends Andy Pansy to me or Achu in the mornings or Oshun during dreams or my favorite Spider Monkey during cosplay. 

( A d r i e n n e )

“You selfish little kunt! Why do you think it’s always about you?” Andy stormed pass Frankie like tally marks on a timeline. At that moment, Frankie was just another event passing. She went to the drawer, throwing panties in a beach bag. Frankie grabbed a few pairs of socks and three bras then dumped her entire jewelry box. Earrings buried themselves amidst the chaos like tears. 

“Who tha fuck you think you talkin to? You got some nerve to even want to be defensive right now!” Frankie caught herself inching towards the most delicate part of her heart in an irrational manner that even death couldn’t contain. She caught herself then backed away quickly. Andy grabbed the bag from Frankie’s hand and followed her into the kitchen. Frankie had just begun to brew a pot of water. She was preparing to make dinner. Andy went to the stove and turned off the burner. 

“Frankie, where are you going? It’s 2:30 in the goddamn morning. Let’s argue over breakfast if you can’t stand my ass that bad, but don’t leave. It’s too late and it’s not safe. Frankie please! I’ll sleep on the fucking couch. Please, just don’t leave!” Andy pleaded. 

“Fuck off” Frankie grabbed her keys and slammed the door behind her. 

Andy ran and opened the front door. She knew she was wrong but her heart was breaking as Frankie walked out the front door. She wanted to chase after her but she couldn’t. She managed to only make it to the door fame. There she stood, slobbing in sorrow to the scheduled click-clacks of her girlfriend’s sneakers, heading in a direction away from her. Walking in to the night all alone.

Frankie walked down a busy main strip just after 2:30 in the morning with attempts to calm the shock. She practiced deep breaths behind a cigarette: inhale, hold the pain, let go of the pain - release. She practiced and practiced in hopes of one day mastering the technique; in hopes of overcoming those anxiety attacks. She has opted in her moment, not to love. The outside temperature, she is convinced, is the same temperature she feels on the inside of her body; crisp autumn chilly enough to help her breathe better. Cool enough to not feel love seeping through her eyes. 

Stumbling down the sidewalk, Frankie decides to not text LeAnne. She won’t be able to make the concert and not quite ready for conversation. Cars pass by sporadically like good times down the drain. Frank-Lyne Debeaux feels depleted. 

The phone has buzzed four times in her back pocket. Andy cannot seem to let go. I really don’t get it. You fuck up bad and expect things to be alright.... like, at that moment? Just cus you don’t feel like arguing. So that means you don’t have to explain how that naked man ended up in our bed? 

Frankie reached for her phone. She ignored her texts and scrolled through the contact list, looking for someone, for anyone who would be down to let her crash til sunrise and purge her feelings over breakfast. Eli’s phone rang three times before she started shit talking about after midnight calls mean jail or sex is calling your name. 

“Listen Eli, cut the shit really. I need to ask you a favor.”

“What’s wrong Frank? You sound messed up. You good?” 

“I need a place to crash til the morning. I won’t get in ya space. I just ... can’t. Andy fucked up fa real this time.” 

“Aww, ya’ll going through it again? Well bring yo sad ass over here. We always got room for ya.” 

It’d been almost a mile before she reached the gas station. Her face was swollen, nose red. Her shirt was stained in sweat and tears. The cashier was curious of her whereabouts when she asked for the address.She’d placed a bottle of water and a bag of pistachios on the counter. “Are you okay, miss?” 

She threw a five dollar bill on the counter and walked out the store. 

“Five to thirty minutes is the wait,” the dispatcher assured her. 

Anxiety began to simmer. Frankie popped the pistachio from its shell and devoured what was hidden like treasure. She glanced down at the label on the bag: Crazee Nuts then chuckled to herself at the irony. “Andy surely has gone nuts. Ain’t dat the truth,” she speaks in to thin air, forcing herself to accept her current situation and gain composure before explaining to Eli that 2:45am sex-ain’t-on-the--line phone call. 

Headphones are plugged in. Music be my healer. Out of the cigarette case she lit a joint she’d decided earlier to save for after dinner. In her mind, she is imprisoned by a sight where is unable to remove herself from the front row. Thoughts dark back to her introduction of Kariem. The Baltimore native with the goatee who was colored with a purple and black marker, making him four shades past midnight. Frankie kept replaying his facial expressions against the illumination of the moon on her side of the bed. Perhaps in some twisted attempt to understand how the regal beauty of this strange man wedged its presence in to her world. 

I got off work and was supposed to link up with Jasper, Lily’s friend. Her family has a jewelry store in Scottsdale. Andy and I have been fucked up for a few months now, and lately, I’ve had the urge to get my girl back. Like, not just us in the same house, but us pre-occupying the same heart. So Jasper texted me a picture of a turquoise sterling silver ring. I thought it was perfect for Andy. I’d lied to my Pansy and told her that I’d be doing some after-work networking. She didn’t know that I’d gotten off early. She didn’t know that I was creating this moment, this thing for her. 

Frankie practiced her lines as if she was the guilty matron saving up excuses for her homeboi. 

Inhale. Scream through the smoke.Exhale. 

She totes the ganja and chases it with water. She is waiting for the hyper sensitivity to warp its empathy around her brain and allow her to forget that her heart is covered in blisters. She takes a second puff: inhale. cry through the fumes, exhale.

The cab has pulled up. Frankie tossed the remains of the joint in a sewer drain and plopped in the back seat. 

“It’s a little late to be a young woman like yourself in the night, alone. You just leaving the bar?” 

“Yeah, sure. Take me away from here. 1477 Tacoma Mountain Drive.” 

“Miss, where am I taking you?”

“1477 Tacoma Mountain Drive,” Frankie reiterated with irritation. The remainder of the ride, they rode in silence. 

“I swear ya’ll fight and argue probably way more than ya’ll fuck.Say it ain’t so?” Eli greets Frankie with humor in attempts to lighten the unknown dispute. 

Frankie daps Eli then walks past her, placing her things in her usual spot after their typical femme disputes. She walks into the kitchen in silence and prepares herself a glass of water then sit upright at the breakfast bar. 

“What’s going on wit ya’ll now? She got mad about you letting Lily borrow something? You get kicked out the house? Ya bag looks bigger than usual.” 

“Nope. I left.” 

“What the hell you do that for? Shit gotta be serious for you to leave your own house Frank.” 

The words, frozen on her lips, eases out with caution: “I came home early...”

Fuck, I swear to everything that I don’t feel like talking about this. But I gotta tell her. She did just wake up in the middle of the night to take me in.

“...with a ring. A turqoise ring, not an engagement right thank god. Andy was tootin her ass around our room in front of some nigga name Kariem. Laying between  my 400 thread count sheets.” 

“HELL NAW FRANK! YOU LYIN’ SON!!!” 

The words began to sputter slower than before. “E, this mu’fucka is laying in our bed. She invited his ass to our fucking house! Andy was just smiling and switching her hips for him. The door was cracked so I could see her from the stairs.”

“Wait a minute, you say Kariem?” Eli questioned.

“Yea, why you know him or something?” Frankie’s voice shot across the room with energy. All the commotion from the kitchen had waken Lily. Eli silenced the conversation when she saw her girlfriend’s shadow growing larger on the hallway walls. 

“Hey Frankie, what you doing over so late? Where Andy at?” Lily attempted to joint the conversation. Eli and Frankie just looked at each other but neither spoke. Frankie thought of her reply then chuckled, “she’s sleepy.” 

i want to hold you

hostage.  dry your 

insides

of all things lovely.