Larry David at the #MetGala because why not
my first kiss: his hands kept passing over the steering wheel, cuts of red tail lights on his palms and painting the knobs of his knuckles. he was driving through my neighborhood on the way home and i was well past curfew. when he pulled up to the curb, he looked at me framed by suburbia and soft dread that no one ever noticed in public. when he kissed me, it was quick and angry, not with himself or with me but with her, always her. "you still love her," i told him. yes, he said. so quiet. yes.