Motherthing

by Ainslie Hogarth

[Laura lets breeze from an open window catch smoke from her mouth and pull it out like a silk scarf.]

The bathroom stings, cold floor, too bright.

Women want things too sometimes, but mostly they’re just warm sensory boards for men to tweak and rub and learn about themselves and the world through.

and the way his whole face grew lines when he smiled because it meant that one day he’d wrinkle up that way,

basket of ribs,

[He gathers her in his arms, their skin the exact same temperature so Abby feels like she’s dissolving, passing into him.]