touch of sharpness to the tongue,
slightly uneven breasts
belly curve is demented
but her vulva is in place—reassuring but not quite enough,
thereby, girl
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QED
There is something brown in me
And it smells like shit
Or
curry
because six-year-olds don’t lie and they can’t be taught that kind of cruelty
Something immigrant and dark
Something dusting hair over my forearms darker than any of my classmates, bloating my lips and my eyes until I look like a mosquito
soon-to-be-ladies skirt around me, shading their eyes in their light hair, glancing down into their training bras, wondering why I don’t wear one, looking cautious, as though I might bite
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Oscars 2015: Snubs
