TagOuija Board

Ouija Board


You were my Ouija board. Beauty marks were letters on your abdomen. The sockets of your waistline scarred with punctuation. We had our own communication. Laughter was the accent that rolled off our tongues. Shifts in eyes said more than shifts in tone. We’d leave our friends downstairs. Step up the apartment’s spine, stay silent until the door shut. Squeeze my wrist: “hello.” Flick my funny bone:...