nayagua

x. sex questionIs it a question?I better be getting home.Okay.They continued to sit. They were parked way out on the highway.Cold night smellcoming in the windows. New moon floating white as a rib at the edge of the sky.I guess I’m someone who will never be satisfied,said Herakles. Geryon felt all nerves in him move to the surface of his body.What do you mean satisfied?Just–satisfied. I don’t know. From far down the freeway came a soundof fishhooks scraping the bottom of the world.You know. Satisfied. Geryon was thinking hard. Fires twisted through him.He picked his way carefullytoward the sex question. Why is it a question? He understoodthat people needacts of attention from one another, does it really matter which acts?He was fourteen.Sex is a way of getting to know someone,Herakles had said. He was sixteen. Hot unsorted parts of the questionwere licking up from every crack in Geryon,he beat at them as a nervous laugh escaped him. Herakles looked.Suddenly quiet.It’s okay, said Herakles. His voice washedGeryon open.Tell me, said Geryon and he intended to ask him, Do people who like sexhave a question about it too?but the words came out wrong–Is it true you think about sex every day?Herakles’ body stiffened.That isn’t a question it’s an accusation. Something black and heavy droppedbetween them like a smell of velvet.Herakles switched on the ignition and they jumped forward onto the back of the night.Not touchingbut joined in astonishment as two cuts lie parallel in the same flesh.95