• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 03
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Was the day she laid
in the bath and
waved a change
of the passing times

with a finger,
pointing out all the
fictions that looked
down upon her

nakedness and
drew curves in
the stoic bath water.
‘This is madness’,

she remarked and later
underlined the first
date on the new
calendar, in bold

she wrote 'need to
shave legs', in a red
marker, an ink
that leaked

through the other pages.
she was dried,
hair patted, and
soon drained



the water that
revealed more
subversions than ideas.
She occupied her desires

and doted that for
the new year  
she would invent a
new style that wouldn’t

settle on a body of water,
stagnant, and instead
light the rooms of her
inner chambers, a fragrance.