stay

she’s pussy juice

slick against leather,

mashed against your thigh greedy.

a plant so desperate for sun she strains.

I burrow fingers

inside her.

find a place

to call home.

the curve of smile rising

in lowered eyes.

clench fists in sleep.

grind teeth to sand every night.

ink sprawls

across canvas of her back.

kisses crackling up tattooed spine.

muscles,

thick and coiled

to squeeze you, boa-like.

she’s boy’s briefs underwear

hiding her girl.

chocolate bar binges at 4 a.m.,

head in your lap.

sweet simmering on tongues.

she’s the break

of pool balls spattering

across the table unpredictable.

she’s mapless,

a road trip

you don’t have gas money for.

but you juggle

to ensure you have enough

for the long, enticing haul.

a bra-snapping troublemaker.

she’s back talk

craving

to be put

in her place.

she’s impulse

breathing fire,

molten motorcycle buzz

roaring between your legs.

she’s white teeth sharp.

she is a six-pack drunk easy

on the beach,

on an overcast afternoon

you don’t want to leave,

although you should have

better things to do

then stay.

---

Debra Anderson (she/her) is the recipient of the Writers’ Trust of Canada’s, ‘Dayne Ogilvie Prize for LGBTQ2S+ Emerging Writers.’ Debra holds an Honours B.A. Degree in Creative Writing and Women’s Studies from York University and is based in Tkaranto/Toronto. Her writing has been widely anthologized in such places as Gender Ever After, Persistence: All Ways Butch and Femme, and Brazen Femme: Queering Femininity, among others. Code White (McGilligan Books) is her first novel. Herizons Magazine described Code White as “The work of a writer who takes her issues as seriously as she takes her fun. A book that meets your eye, has a good handshake, and looks killer in a pair of fishnets.” www.debraanderson.ca