James Coleman



He slid my just-fallen flip-flop back on my foot. I thought, “He treats me like a princess.”

Still, it surprised me when, his head in my lap, my fingers in his hair, I disclosed my diagnosis, and, gazing at me, he said, “I’m actually even more attracted to you now. You’re so honest.” Later, his lips hopscotching along my shoulder, neck, nose, mouth, made sense.

“I think sometimes I tell people to see if they’ll still love me.” I said this after, but he was asleep: just-fallen. In the dark, my toes still tingled where his kisses, tender, had tumbled.
-Kerry Graham