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ISSUE:  Summer 2018

Daddy was a slick devil, so he must have thought my sister his
succubus; a mud-bone Lilith, her lurid tresses struck shut with
igneous flicker when it happened in the black. His cinereous 

peepers, glazed over moons which pierced through Tweety Bird
jammies. He tended to sissy’s unassuming sinew with his eyes first
so as to handle the unfathered clitoris with the only sort of care 

he knew: the briered kind. First, he examined legs, the torqued
ratios of sweat beneath them. Next, he toyed with nipples honed
by the brisk of winter; her boyish chest taught a mannish math

of phalanges & learned quick. Further, his manicured hands
breached the lithe hymn of her hymen. Then something like
a thump, a panting finch throated by thorax? Such swift entrance 

became the girl. And from her cracked chrysalis sprang a horned
moth, incarnadined with prying. He stifled cries, seized the winged
beast mid-flight: a new pet. Some secrets, I’m told, are best kept.



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