By: Lisa Marie Basile
He stood there dripping and I figured I could get my fingers up under his ribs and string my teeth through his belt loops but the parents were all downstairs clinking wine glasses. We could not go down there. It would be the exorcist all over again and we'd stand and he'd get inside me at the piano and then they'd take us and bleed us and we wouldn't do a thing but gaze at one another from the beds and he'd tell me when his blood grew back he'd send it to the proper limbs and we would show them what it meant to throw a dinner party and leave a mess. Of course the dress code would be all white from head to toe and I would lead by example.
