Sometimes when I tell you to get on top I just want you to lay on me, not sexually but in stillness, like a human blanket. I want to be crushed by your weight, compressed by your body. Our heartbeats in sync or out of sync, I don’t care which, our stomachs rising and falling into each other, and it’s intimate and quiet and warm. But mostly I like feeling trapped by you, knowing that if you laid there too long my lungs would collapse, knowing that if you never uncovered me, I would suffocate.
Brittany Harmon
brittany.harmon@temple.edu
Fast Machine
Elizabeth Ellen