The black bile of your anger coats my kitchen table, sticky residue of our final argument. It clings to me, releasing spores, growing evicera. A lattice of your intestines on the coat of the man I met on Tinder. A tiny colony of spongy spleen hanging delicately from a barista’s beard. Everywhere. A fleshly prison, forcing me to peer at the world through the angry filter of you.
Teresa Douglas is a Mexican-American writer living in Vancouver BC. She has an MFA in Fiction from Sarah Lawrence College. Her work has appeared in P.S. I Love You and is forthcoming from Adelaide Magazine.
