He lends her his comb
by Michael J Pagan
e loved—or so he thought—the idea of it; thinking: how young was I when I first learned how to hide? As she leaned—preferring always to kneel upside-down, or right-side up depending on whose perspective was right at that particular moment—both her knees just above the crown of his head, both hands cleft by the breadth of his bare abdomen, as her hair dripped over him.
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