“I cried on a toilet in the middle of New York City. Four times in one day. I counted. I
promise.
That time I was stunned by my own pudendum. The smell.
Then I became ashamed of my shame, et cetera, infinity until the end of time itself.”
More from Erika L. Sánchez
“I once fucked a man who was unspeakably ugly, and it wasn’t even winter. What I mean is…”
“What I know best is the color of sun through my own eyelids.”
“And if I say my body is its own crumbling country, if I say I am always my own home—then…”
“What is God to me but an open-mouthed stranger?”