It was the morning I finally told him, I’m always going to be this small,
his eyes did a slow rattle of disbelief, I said it harder, I’m not getting any bigger,
ever.
And that was it. Because sometimes, a lover is just simply not
enough.
When he picked up his things and went, I was still naked, so I slipped
into a pillowcase.
It made a fine dress. I posed in the mirror like a scarecrow, pretended to have matchsticks for fingers.
Mirror, Mirror, in the shape of a fin, can you see them? Parts that can seem thin
as pins.