she lets a grilled cheese burrito sit frozen;
tremors slice through her clammy skin as the night grows curious, for she is known to rob burritos of their virginity before sunrise / she dips them into buckets of molten cheese, before wrapping her lips around their dripping width, attempting to swallow them whole in messy turns / at first, she would do it for him, the voyeur—a request he had whispered into the nape of her neck, inside a Taco Bell crowded fresh from a rave, prompted by something naked on their menu / heads floating, blobs of snow foam sitting pretty on demonic hair, she had giggled then not knowing that he would leave her addicted to violating burritos;
and now he fidgets in his grave, restless / his spells undone.
Tejaswinee Roychowdhury is an Indian lawyer and writer who sometimes bursts out the occasional poetry and art like invisible confetti. Her recent work can be found at Ongoing, Penicillin, Twin Pies, Yuzu Press, Alphabet Box, and elsewhere. She is currently a fiction/stage/screen editor for The Storyteller’s Refrain. Twitter: @TejaswineeRC. Website: linktr.ee/tejaswinee