Violet's Dream: A Triptych

Here's an excerpt from part I of my new piece.

"A pig in my bed is not a surprise, though he always tends to happen suddenly, as if on an impulse: mine or his. We fly to Reno … eventually.

He has always had tasty lips that feel like butter, and a strong nose for fear. He can smell menstrual blood and menopause from impressive distances. Comely pink pig, so smart, so misunderstood . . . so maligned . . . so malignant. I suck on his briny knuckles with my pretty pink mouth, porky pink tongue.

In turn, the beast feasts, plucks organs from their venal roots, popping them into his mouth, barely chewing. He leaves my mammary glands for last, salivates as he kneads them, wanting milk.

Now I am all bone, ready for a stroll on the runway in my rose silk gown.

I think of the three pigs: the pig in my 20’s, the pig in my 30’s and the pig in my 40’s. Pigs come in threes like fairy tales. Then who is this pig in my bed?"

Email me if you want to read the entirety.