tasted of exhaust fumes and the

ear the phantom taste of licorice

lavor I kn

s mother, had brewed a thick,

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h cramp until I was curled in a

in the doorway,

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would say. "But Ma kno

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ow as he walked toward

se, his shoulders squared

care about

ly fertility rituals where the village crones wou

red about

't give him the re

hair across my face,

doctor had slid the file

sper

sperm

s the st

bathroom sink that night, w

bedroom and told him t

m from the mockery

who cannot sire a ch

on is a

his life w

as how he

nte called out, hold

ked an

ienced by the chore of taking out the

ed tow

dn't

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the bitter taste in m

as discarding a

lighting the fuse on a