Large bodies of water exist, but not where we live.
I’ve been living in dust so long, I don’t even notice
the trails of dirt left behind in the bathtub every
single time I want to feel clean. I don’t notice the casual
grit between my molars, I just assume it’s supposed to be
there. My skin isn’t soft anymore, so you don’t touch me.
We used to twist around each other like hungry
ribbons; I was afraid to have sex on the beach because I worried
the sand would sink into my skin, would scratch my body
as it shifted, would stick to our brilliant sweat. You said
you could respect that, so we did it on your living room
floor while Fox News was accidentally turned on low.
We didn’t listen to the desert wars. Another boy body
found in a sand dune.



Gina Vaynshteyn is the social media and associate editor for She’s written for places like The Rumpus, Mic, and Bustle, and has also taught writing classes at SDSU. You should totally read her mind on Twitter @ginainterrupted.

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