I Want to Hold Your Hand

couldn’t you have kept your legs shut?” I mumble under my breath. But then I laugh/cry imagining her saying: take it back. I mean it, take it back right now. My sister always said that, right after she punched my arm. The guy hands me a Kleenex. Shit. I despise guys who cry. He was a crier — overly apologizing for all the crap he’d done to us every single time he was drunk, which was often. His tears were never sincere or backed by love. He could say some hateful shit too. I guess I get it…

Grand Cayman. In September 2016, I went on a cruise on the Carnival Breeze. The Carnival Breeze left from Galveston, Texas. It was a seven-day cruise that stopped at three ports. The three ports were Montego Bay, Grand Cayman, and Cozumel. We had four sea days and three port days. The days at sea were very different than the days at port. My favorite day out of all seven days was the fourth day. The fourth day we stopped at Grand Cayman. Grand Cayman was beautiful. I was also very excited…

“There is no other reason to be given why you have not gone to hell, since you have sat here in the house of God, provoking his pure eyes by your sinful wicked manner of attending his solemn worship” - Jonathan Edwards. I will be comparing the literature works of Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God by Jonathan Edwards and To My Dear and Loving Husband by Anne Bradstreet. The early American authors were similar and different because of religious beliefs and writing style. Both authors are very…

myself by Walt Whitman jacklyn signorile I believe in you my soul the other I must not a bath itself to you and you must not be a best to the other this is the phrases that Walt Whitman has chosen to begin his fist poem in his trilogy entitled song of myself. Loaf with me on the grass Whitman requests implying lay with me in the grass lose the stuff from your throat it seems as if Whitman is giving vocal coaching he moves on to say not words not music or rhyme I want not custom or lecture not…

Still sweating from the Inauguration Day Ball, I walk into the secret room eyeing the lines of shelves with leather bound volumes. Some are collecting dust yet others are well worn. The only area of the burgundy walls that aren't covered by the mahogany shelves are a few small alcoves that hold paintings of past presidents. The earlier presidents stand in front of me. In the center, the 48th president, Felix Torres, holds a book much larger than I would have imagined. His burnt sienna eyes…

moves restless hands between his pocket and hanky, his eyes fixed on every rise and fall of her chest, longing to hold and comfort his first grandchild. My daughter’s birth wasn’t like the beautiful stories I’d heard or movies I’d seen. It was silent - her scrawny, little, blue body, static in the cold air of the big world. My father sitting beside me, mumbles, ‘heart disease is in the family you know... your family’. The ICU door swings a close. Through the viewing window, I catch a glimpse…

meeting a guy who I have been chatting with for some time. I know it's not wise to, but I know in my heart that it's the right and safe to meet my cowboy soldier. Waiting for the flight, then again as you go through security, has my nerves on the edge of sanity, and my stomach is in knots. Will you like me when you see me? Will we connect as well as we have on the internet? Will you like my body? Will your body be as hard and cut as it looks in the photos you sent me? I know your sexy voice…

evening Texas air brushes my dress as I coolly stood up at an intersection near College Vista. A couple of pedestrians oftentimes surveyed me suspiciously, I was fine with that until this one dude invited me to come with him due to the fact that he thought I was a street prostitute. But all is good, thanks to Abby’s trusty Taser Gun – it seems to me that he won’t exasperate me ever again. As agreed upon, Jake pulls up his car along the street at exactly 7:30. I hop inside the vehicle,…

His fingers were trailing up and down her sides over her ribs while the heels of his hands made lazy progress up her spine. Blair was jolted to the soles of her feet when his fingers brushed the sides of her breasts, plumped out against the quilt. She shifted her weight and he got the less-than-subtle message. His hands left her long enough to get more lotion. When next he began, they were on the backs of her knees. "If you're so dedicated to dance, what are you doing here? It doesn't seem…

should know your failure to send daily reports hasn’t stopped us from keeping an eye on you. You haven’t paid attention to your surroundings and that worries me. I am concerned you’re forgetting where you belong. They are ready to retrieve you whenever I give them the go ahead. I have managed to keep the knowledge of your involvement in history out of the hands of administration, but that won’t last forever. I talked to Professor Hazdi about why you would want a print shop. Can’t say I liked…