“Snow lies on my fieldsthough the air is so warm I wantto roll on my back and wriggle.Sure, the dark downhill weep showswho’s winning, and the thatch of tallgrass is sticking out of the banks,but I want to start digging and planting.My swelling hills, my leafbrown loamysoil interlaced with worms red as mouths,my garden,why don’t you hurry upand take your clothes off ?”

“Sometimes my feelings get so big that I just want to swim out into the darkness. Just jump off the end of the world. Sometimes I want to dig, right down to the bones of everything. Sometimes when you dig, you dig up stuff you might not want to find. But that’s where the good stuff lies.”

“Can you take off your shirt?”I couldn’t see Rachel clearly on the other side of my truck’s cab. My eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the darkness of my secret make-out hideout. But I could hear herlaughing her ass off. “Not even for Sean.”“Well, we have to make it look good somehow. Do you mind if I take off mine? My dad says I look like sex on a stick with my shirt off.”“Knock yourself out.”I started to pull my shirt over my head. I was used to wearing T-shirts. When it wouldn’t give, I remembered I was wearing something Sean-like. As I unbuttoned it, Iasked, “Want to make a bet how long it takes him to get out here?”

“You should have seen his face when I started taking my clothes off. Priceless.”

“I want to take you until you are boneless. I want to drain you of strength. I want to fill you and take my fill of you. My dear, Ivy, I want to devour you. I want your juices on my toung, flooding my mouth. I want your wetness on my face, your scent covering me. I want your blood in my veins.”

“My closet’s so full of memories and fearful homosexuals that I have nowhere to hang my clothes. Well, that and I don’t know how to tie a noose. I’m making meatloaf on a stick if you want to come over later and help me prosecute my entire wardrobe.”