  The Underneath I keep a pet woman under my bed. Shes small and feisty, with sharp teeth. I make her wear all the clothes I hate; high heels, garter belts, clingy velour.
I feed her chocolate and wine from a box. She glares at me as she twirls the curling iron through her brown hair. I let her out once a week for a bubble bath. When shes PMSing she kicks the bottom of my mattress to keep me awake. I punish her by taking away her cable. She pouts, spends all day looking at her mirror instead of me. I get her a fist sized disco ball: we kiss and make up. Shes so small I can fit my tongue all the way around her neck.
She tastes of vinegar and honey. When shes been good I let her sleep at the foot of my bed. Sometimes I wake up and shes in my mouth. I chew her hair softly, like a cow would, if it had the heart of a wolf. Then I put her back in her cage. She cries and dresses in white until the moon breaks. 
