He drives me on the back of his stupid fucking
motorcycle and for the first time in my life I
know what it feels like to want to fly.
We eat dim sum at the prettiest restaurant I’ve
ever seen not in a magazine and share wine
and dessert and his laughter is plant food.
And he won’t kiss me because our bubble
is made of glass and afterwards with my
fingertips over his belly button I understand
that if he were to so much look at another
I’d crash this bike myself and maybe, once
splayed out on the goddam pavement, I
could finally get some rest.
Michaela Brown is an ESL teacher based in Vigo, Spain. She is the first place recipient of the 2020 Marjorie Stover Short Story Prize and has previously been published in Laurus Magazine, The Fourth River, Unstamatic, and elsewhere. You can find her on Twitter @mikienbrown.