I remember how we slept. I’d lie flat on my back and Kate would unzip my hoodie halfway down my chest, slide her hand onto my breast, and place her head on my clavicle. I’d burrow my nose into her hair. When she wanted sex she would gently caress my nipple; it would harden and she’d run her pierced tongue down my stomach, arriving underneath a pair of tattered boxers that I wore as pajamas. I’d pull her on top of me, aligning our bodies so that we practically snapped into place. I always came with such force that my back would shoot upward, propelling me forward and crashing into her. “I
