Monday, June 11, 2012

Feels like invisible

So soon as I exit the office doors I reclaim my identity. Actually, it is more accurate to say that my identity becomes restored.

      Girl exists in serpentine shoes, eyes beiged over with dead haze. Each smile brings a glitter to my skin. A welcome hue of vibrance. Raise your chin, why not smile...
"my you look lovely today."

I pivot in dread as the nineteenth door opens my dress begins to fade.
First a small tatter, then the skin absorbs into ether; no signal vanishes.

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