Author: Alina Stefanescu

Six Gravel Roads

A gravel road. His voice weak from bronchitis. We divide a Lucky Strike between breaths. He pushes words into the sunset’s silence. “I went to homecoming with a girl that wore black combat boots and an orange polyester housedress that wasn’t a costume. Just before I got into drugs. Unrelated. But I can’t get over how she smelled like detergent, the brittle bleach of her hair, the kiss she refused to give back in the Waffle House parking lot.” My toe itches, distinct pulse and throb of a fire ant bite. Smoke, then scratch. I like her name, the...

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Why I Like Complicated Positions

I prefer complicated positions in cramped spaces for sex. Sudden attempts at eye contact make face-to-face fucks uncomfortable given the fleetingness of efforts connecting feelings to specific nerve endings. Which synapse gets fired. I don’t wonder what he’s thinking unless he shoves his eyes into mine, intrusive as a couples selfies. A man’s gaze is rarely more gentle than his member. He wants something substantial with those fries. Would I prefer a rear-facing position every time? Generalization is insufficient. A formula comforts, but comfort is the petri dish of boredom. The quantity of comfortable bored folks is clinical. Statistics...

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