Small Talk

she’s walking to class

holding books and a shiny calculator

her polite hair and polite mouth

huge bulging breasts

the clouds block the sun momentarily

her textbook is upside-down in an awkward

way so you see only the letters ‘la’

your eyes flicker upwards to hers

“hey! how are you?”

“yes, good- you?”

“yeah good thanks!”

thick black hair

black hair tucked behind hot ears

reaching down, down buttons being undone ripping down, down

“what subjects are you doing this term?”

“I’m doing –“


fucking hard on the floor

on the cold, hard floor

fucking in cold sweat on the cold, hard floor

her leg over yours tighter and tighter

“lit, finance, chem, creative writing and”

“oh cool. I’m doing finance too – hahha uah sorry”

bumps into you accidentally, hair stuck between your arm and shoulder

sliding her tongue up your

whispering, hot, biting, tearing

she clutches your hands and

she breaks your bones and


“hey um, how was your weekend?”


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