Meg Reilly


he knew more about the french, garden benches and a perfected gaze. when she looked up. she knew. they said it would happen. it did. the trees changed colors. she opened him. she evaluates a lot out of the corner of the eye. when she sat down she saw him look up. she didn’t move her leg away. she saw him in the corner. gathering strength. trying to be seen noticing her. she noticed. he was interested in her book. her book’s cover matched the colors of her dress. as she began writing this, she did not know it would be about that exact moment they met. some relationships move fast.                    she let him in.                    some don’t.


she knows who is chosen. she is talented, can identify a hummingbird’s noise. has a strong will.                    strong muscles to push the babies out.


last night, staring at the phone, i wanted to call again and tell you i feel the same. am in love with you too. madly is a word that ends in l y. i wish you were not sad. you do not have to be. we are happy. in fact you are not sad. i am happy. you are happy. i understand. you do not want to hurt. i have some extra knowledge of these workings of hair and spit. i have incredible discipline. i can count the number of men i’ve let in on one hand. when a woman sleeps with a man, she is hooked. she is baited. instantly connected to the mare. the color, the smell, the song she was singing that day. you are so comfortable to me. you are sexy. i know you will be.


if you were not sad she would be less. your energy sparks her. puts her on the horse. bouncing on the saddle bulge, remembering what was inside, what she misses. this is the difference between you and i. i am more precautious with my cunt than your are with your dick. i have to be. it makes sense for me. my sex squeezes you hard. i tell you to stay, and you do. it will not let go. the chemical connections to the partners, to the space/place/that which is inserted. i will help you understand. i have only met one woman to whom this does not apply. i am lucky to be related. to observe her large numbers. her squeeze and let go. baby sister. bats behind the eaves. the sky is pink. it is 6 o’clock in the morning. you are sleeping. you are not inside me. i have only had three loves in my life. two, i’ve had inside. one of them was you. the first, my will power, i knew i would be hooked. like father and mother, rooted to one spot, not far from the first hospital, newburgh, new york, the hudson valley. silt.


i wonder about those women who are not careful with their sex. i have incredible will power. i let you inside after one week. i do not let him after six. or others after fifteen years. especially friends. we play together outside. some women don’t understand tact. never sleep with a friend before you understand the ocean or the moon.






The creation of this piece began after the random meeting of a stranger on a train.