their roots like gnarled fingers ready to scrabble down and seize us—and when we left this ravine and entered a wider gulch, it was with the relief of a deep breath and a loosened belt.

coulee

And this time she doesn’t stop him when he peels off her pants and explores the slickness between her legs with his hands before climbing on top of her. Together they move slowly, with the rhythm of a sleeping chest, until they are finished—and this takes a long time—so long that their flashlights begin to dim and eventually black out.

The cave—a lava tube—runs beneath their house, their neighborhood, and beyond, a vast tunnel that once carried in it molten rock the color of an angry sun.

lip. So we bought another set of gloves, and as the air grew steadily colder we fought with steam blasting from our mouths.

I dangled my feet over the edge of the crater and leaned back on my elbows and took in the sky—no moon, only stars—just a little lighter black than a crow.

And then we went home with them, to their trailers, to their waterbeds, where among their stuffed animals we fucked them.

and when the breeze rose into a cold wind the forest became a giant whisper.

Then she grabs the poker from the fireplace and holds it like a spear and jerks it forward, impaling the bat. When the metal moves through it, it makes the smallest scream in the world.