THREE CASES OF OCD
I call you Bambi. I think you’re the cutest girl in the world.
I see a man wearing a sweater that says I’m Muslim Ask Me About Islam.
You have a thing for the posh and suits and ties and loafers and high society.
We went to the National Portrait Gallery and played smash or pass. Your tan lines reveal a much paler girl but never as pale as me. Somehow through your bronze skin there are electric-blue veins that meet mine when I put my fingers through yours.
And I pin you down like a trapped animal.