lost things

All these things were found while cleaning out a computer.

Two women on a tree-lined street. They squeeze each other at the edges of jackets, at the shoulders, at the hands. A montage of their friendship flies behind them like a flag, with music bellowing. There has been war. There has been wonderment. There has been blood. The redhead pulls at her hair, and a zipper appears. She unzips her entire body. The zipper runs down the center, past her belly button, into her crotch. The blonde woman steps inside her. The redhead strains to zip up, but the track pulls—and smoothly, the zipper rises, like the sound of someone saying I am sorry in a language only women know.

ilysm

xo

Amy