Love Hurts

From “Love Hurts,” unpublished m/s: By Chloe Thurlow

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We kiss. He sucks my bottom lip.

‘I love your lips,’ he says.

‘They’re only lips,’ I reply.

But, of course, it isn’t true. My lips are my best and worst quality. They suck in compliments and irritation. They are lips that exaggerate sometimes. Lips that tell lies sometimes. A woman’s lips. Lips that pout and sulk and pucker. Lips that move with a will of their own. Men see my moist lips and imagine...