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Women & Menexpand_moreWhat counts in the long run is pleasure in conversation with each other.
Richard Bausch
Michelle dances on his forehead like an imp, like an illness in motion.
By the end of my trip to St. Thomas, I had discovered a reason to live.
When we move together in the dark I can almost get to him but I turn back.
Tobias Wolff
Her body too, a mystery in motion. But does she own her body?
Christ is not alive but the she-blood is. Slow down and swerve to miss her.
She alone knew how he could be swept up, tender interior laid bare.
Six-word stories about the the perplexities of love and desire.
Peter Taylor’s stories are jigsaw puzzles of nuance and suggestion.
If he was cheating on her, he was cheating on her paintings as well.
It’s silly, I know, half-expecting to see Apollo playing lyre to a muse.
It never occurred to me that I was being sold too, standing inside my box. Basil was annoyed. All that training he’d given me going to waste on art? I’ve been selling cigarettes, I said, as if it were a credential.
You put his hand around your throat but he keeps moving it away.
It seemed that someone had died, but really it was part of us.
Sarah let herself be guided by her desire, inescapable and true.
I found it impossible to forget that we lived in a poor country.
The thumbnail spoke directly to the most excitable parts of himself.
Eyes wide open, I offer myself to a new boy and watch him grow.
“Dorm whores” his roommate calls them. They come for the booze.
He had dreamed of being a front-runner, someone who changed lives.
“Hey, babe,” he said, breathing into the phone like a sex maniac.
I love you to distraction, she would say. I love you beyond love.
Summer’s erosion has begun, all that taking the waves from shore.
We have mysterious inclinations. No one can explain it to us.
I try to get her to drink again. We were okay drunks, before Jesus.
The most arcane sexual practices could arouse me from my torpor.
He was living like a coyote, out on the margins. But then a letter came.
Her appearances are fleeting, a gust of air, a murmur in the night.