- Vol. 04
- Chapter 07
The Woman Who Shook in the Blue Chair Room
Shook her face in half, shook until her mind was a spattered cave of hyper, splash back, groovy, Jazz Funk – she became an abstract expressionary movement. When she cried, the colour inside her throat was the colour of sky, at its brightest under sun and she cried clouds the shape of swans, of smears, of smiley faces. She had puffy ankles from all her stamping to the beat and her chair was a throne, a sapphire throne of blue and her words wrote blue and the heart she left on the wall was blue and the scribbles and blotches were blue but her toenails were painted red.