The Goatskins I Tried On
2012
This boy got Sesame Street shirts and a smirk on his face. When I show him photos of himself he says, "These are too intimate. I don’t like seeing myself this way," then he licks my face. He doesn’t go out much, but neither do I. This is good because I hate the way he walks. I never look him in the eye, his noise is much more interesting. I often watch him through the window. He named all his goats after me. I sometimes watch him fuck them in the barn.
He waits until I let him in and leaves his goat milk at the door. His nipples are enlarged and freckles cover his arms. There is no muscle under fat, only bloated sweaty arms. When I wonder what the weather is he tells me it is overcast with a chance of rain. His belly overflows and always leaves my bed sheets soaked.
One time I saw him digging. It was hot outside and he had no shirt. He said he was working out. That was the last time we had sex. There was dirt and saliva and his mother stood outside to watch. When he finished he filled the holes with goats. It was the best sex I ever had.
When I ask him what I feel like he often says, "Death." I tell him to fuck off because I’m a busy woman.