Pam Avoledo
Metal Hearts
We promised we wouldn’t disappear into any boy, to leave our bodies for a passing feeling, to become shapeless. We’d fuck and run, our skin cold from breathless candied conversations said on our glossed lips, the shimmering stains marking the pillows on the beds inside rooms we won’t remember. Your thumb on my bare shoulder, my breath warming your chin. You “hmm” as you move your head and I can view the outline of my arm on your chest.
Pam Avoledo’s work can be found at pamavoledo.com.