First Date She sits in my kitchen chair, I stand at the counter. Safety requires my watching the knife; we talk without having to hold eye gaze. At least for now, I speak more truth this way. Share this:TwitterFacebookLike this:Like Loading... Related Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here... Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Email (Address never made public) Name Website You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change ) Cancel Connecting to %s Notify me of new comments via email. Notify me of new posts via email. Δ
Slut of the Cloth 
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