Ultraluminous

by Katherine Faw Morris

The closet is locked. When he kisses me everything sucks away, as if we are the only things in space. It makes half of me hate him.

A good whore is an empty pattern like me.

I imagine us every day moving in different, useless formations.

On the train platform all the women look at me hurtfully and I know I look good today.

All their minds are the same.

Heroin is an echo but an orgasm is a pattern.