Another Constant

by Kennedy B.

I found myself looking for ways to make sure she never felt the desire to go. I’d never admit it aloud, but that would fuck me up, and any nigga she tried to entertain wouldn’t make it past the greeting. All forehead vents.

“Because I’m a killer, Harlem. You ever try to leave me alone, I’ma turn your ass into a professional speed dater. Every time you think you getting close to somebody, he’d wind up missing or miraculously dead. They're gonna think your ass is a serial killer with no proof.”