Sal Randolph

A Future

I remember the time when everyone had pubic hair and the simple beauty and promise of those dark triangles. We went outside, under the trees, in the dappled sun, and stripped down just to admire each other. Come a little closer. We thought this was freedom and we thought we were making a future. Touch me. Hand between my breasts. Hand on the small of the back. Mouth against my ear. Breath on my neck. Your knee against my knee. This was the promise we gave ourselves. Whatever we thought it meant, it wasn’t what it actually meant. 

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