Jason E Coombs

You meet at Cafe 23 in Marchspend some Sundays wearing the same sheet, plan a trip to Montreal for the fall. You don’t plan to hope you won’t see the paper bag with her rolled up black coat and a book of erogenous zones in Spanish you leave outside your door in the morningwhen the…

from this Flixbus window passing towns toward Perth I read a woman who was once a girl standing at the top of her innocent street looking down its incline toward a life she knew she would not live from this passing window a flicker of a young man steps toward a future down the slope…

As they lay in this space of sunits light on their skin knows if they will drop a deeper anchor. her running muscles rest across his thighs. the evening shadows a valleybetween her abs and obliques. his finger tips are eyes reading soft syllables. She moves.He goes blind. She asks him to describe her body…