A lover’s quarrel washes over dense rocks, whooshing across her inner dynamic to toil among the pride of brokenhearted men by shaking her fists; her wrists cracked a creak in her back. She crawls through the corpses of denial, pinching her nose from the stench of selfishness. She escaped a twisted plot by bathing in the memory of her riding me.

(© 2022 AC)

(Wattpad, Amazon Kindle.)