Long before she bought her first pair of fishnets and rolled down the waistband on her skirts to raise the hemline, there was a nakedness in her eyes like swollen blackberries on a leaf-barren vine. She looked for it in other people, touching strangers’ arms in passing to lure a glance and thumbing the brows … Continue reading “Exercise: Personal Ritual”
It comes on so slowly, this change in routine. Yet every season I find myself fighting to hang onto habitual tasks. I need another summer morning to pin clothes to the line while still in my nightgown. I need another autumn afternoon to sit on the porch and listen to dry leaves skitter down the … Continue reading “Change in Routine”
She withdraws from her name, wondering why, as a child, she wrote it on everything she owned – black magic marker on a backpack, silver paint pen on a leather jacket, the image etched into her flesh by a man named Shaker. There aren’t statues of cats, at least, posed and lined up on wooden … Continue reading “Identity”
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