Paul | by Delia Rainey

The combination of my body can change over time.

There is a potential for bruising that I never imagined.

The sky looks like pee and the dogs threw up grass.

He had a skinny torso & he asked, “r u interested in pain?”

I picked two cherry tomatoes and ate them immediately.

We’re just lying on his futon in his mom’s basement, & I’m getting felt up or something.

I’m staring at this pin-up poster of a cowgirl, I think about that poster all the time.

The bugs are so loud, leaving their bodies, remember when the eyes oozed out in the documentary abt death?

I want yr arm sewn to my arm, I think the string would feel so good.



Delia Rainey is a musician and writer living in the south side of St. Louis, Missouri. Her prose and poems have been featured in Pleiades, DIAGRAM, Spy Kids Review, El Balazo Press, Peach Magazine, Potluck Magazine, Sweet: A Literary Confection, Western Humanities Review, Water Soup, and others. She tweets often: @hellodeliaaaaa.