Day Three Hundred and Thirty-Four.


Today’s theme: sweat

Izzy circle


I’m standing out the front of the bank with one hand on the trigger and one hand in the air.
Look back, and you – caught in the doorway, grinning like an idiot, dribbling fat wads of cash that slap like fat fish onto the marble doorstep. Half expecting you to throw your arms up high, spray money down these steps and scream ‘Fuck capitalism! Fuck the patriarchy!’, your eyes glinting like diamonds, you look a million bucks babe


Blare of sirens, hot-footing it down the street you right there, you right there behind me, like I can feel your breath on my neck, feel hands run over my belly one down between my legs, one up to grip my chest. Like I can already taste your sweat on my tongue.


Money to burn babe, money to lie on, money to throw out our revved-up, top-down chariot. Just you and me babe. Just you and and the road babe. Sky’s the limit.



Sarah circle


I am my own outrageous little ecosystem.
Here are the storm clouds puffing out of my ears.
Here are the tides rolling sand across my forehead.
Here are the ferns creeping softly through my sinuses.
And lo, here comes the summer sweat, lo, here comes the rain.



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