“Preheat” by Jerekah Greene

i want you to take that knife and i want you to press it into the dip of my lower back and i want you to tell me what it looks like when the blood beads and then i want you to drag it up, i want you to carve a line along the curve of my spine and when i hiss in pain i want you to laugh and say, “well what did you expect?” i want to kiss you until the kitchen timer goes off and i pull your arms from under my shirt so i can take the pie out of the oven and i want to be wearing my red checkered apron when i fall back onto your lap, i want there to be flour smeared on my chin and i want you to take that knife and drive it into my breastbone and if it catches i want to mock you, i want to lick my lips and tell you to use both hands, put some fucking elbow grease into it, come on, break me, split me in two starting from the space between my ribs, wrench me open with your bare hands. i want to wake up with your arm slung across my throat, pinning me down, i want to roll over and swallow your morning breath and i want to be so domestic it’s disgusting, isn’t it disgusting? how i want to hold your hand when i’m baking even when i need both of mine to knead the dough? i want you to tell me it’s disgusting and then i want you to kiss the flour off of my nose and then i want you to take that knife and i want you to cut the excess dough around the sides, here, do you see how i’m doing it? just like that, baby, just like that.

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Jerakah Greene is a genderqueer lesbian from Tulsa, Oklahoma. They are soon to graduate from Columbia College Chicago, where they study fiction, literature, and gender studies. They have published fiction in The Lab Review and the F(r)iction log. They are Editor-in-Chief of Antithesis, an academic journal published in the spring of 2019, and a junior editor with F(r)iction Literary Magazine.