Shrew

this day, I can’t look at a Burger King cheeseburger wrapper without feeling my clit twitch.

One of the wonderful things about true Italian men is that their default setting is about a cunt hair away from physical violence where their heterosexual bonds are concerned. I do enjoy men with a whiff of menace.

egress.

slavish

Italians consider this kind of solitary endeavor an aberration; it horrifies them.

The streets flow with an endless human wash, so many people running like dumbstruck salmon, looking for love, looking for money, looking for a place to eat, wanting for fame, hoping for a place to sleep, hoping for a person to sleep with, praying for meaning in the dark before dawn.

Of all my men, Marco is the most important, though it might be more accurate to say that he was the most lasting.