Space-husband

My space-husband is devoid of features, save for his Adam’s apple he lets me use as a chew toy–sometimes, for other things he says he likes the cheap perfume I wear–the discontinued one, You know the one that smells like Jolly Ranchers I wear it to reaffirm my virginity since most mid-to-late 20-something’s wear the afterbirth of coitus, like soap he called my _______ micro-soft nicknamed it Click “Y2K” was our safe word he tattoos a sigil for getting lost (in my skin) to beam him home, since my body is only temporarily...

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