she was a quiet girl who liked listening to the way people

moved their lips and the way they

talked with their eyes when they

squinted in the sunlight

smiled with their crinkles.

there was so much more to be read in the

way someone held themselves

and the way they did their hair

and the way they tied their shoes

and the particular way that they chewed their nails

then the

words they said

when they thought

someone was

listening.

she was a nice girl who liked nice things that she

couldn’t afford.

so one day she afforded them to herself with

some quantity of risk and

some willingness of failure and

some foolishness of youth.

she looked in the mirror and tried to read herself

but all she saw was a nice girl who

liked teacups and revlon red and

she couldn’t seem to read herself

quite as well

as the rest.

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