Horizon of thigh

An excerpt from my book:


I am larger all the time, and Isabella keeps finding new corners of me. Episode. She puts her nose in my hair and hears small animals making chuck and click sounds. Where grass meets her knees, she will rub later with her fingernails, or she squints at a faraway horizon of thigh. She tends my wounds where she can. It is a world where certain animals, even some cold-blooded, have calls we hear as human laughter.



I am hemorrhaging intention, and this frightens her. I intend to throw off the leather ties on my flanks. I intend to purify my fluids. I intend to eliminate the space between essence and skin. I intend to put temperature right and to reinstate the extinct. I intend to erase the claw-marks.

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