You take a book from my shelf and lie with me nestled in your armpit. I’m certain, emphatic: this is it.
All those frogs that I had to kiss were a rehearsal for this.
As you get up to shower, your phone lights up.
It’s a message on Grindr: want to fuck?
I try not to look, but the screen draws me in.
And I almost vom out my heart as I reply: he has a boyfriend, I’m with him.
But he sends back a picture of him and my love.
The reflection of you fucking from the mirror above. You come out of the shower, smelling of cheap soap. I ask: “Are we exclusive?”
You shake your head “Nope”
– Matthew Jacobs Morgan
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Matthew Jacobs Morgan is a writer and performer from London. He’s working on his first play on attachment at the National Theatre and his first feature film is in development with BFI. As a performer he’s worked at the Almeida Theatre, Birmingham Rep, Sheffield Crucible and on TV for Channel 4, ITV, BBC3 and E4.
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