Crimson Ocean Dance

For/from Fionna I had flushed a deep, deep crimson—my cheeks and the triangle of flesh visible above my T-shirt’s V-neckline the same colour as her lipstick. I knew this because my shame was reflected in her sunglasses. “What?” she jeered.

3 WORDS: Piano River Feather

For/from Jenn (and all my girls with artists’ skewed priorities) “We are not moving a grand piano down to the river—are you insane?” I said. She laughed. “I am. We must. Don’t worry—we won’t move your piano…” “I should hope