I put lipstick on to write
and as soon as I sank into my chair I caught sight of my mouth in the mirror. The red didn’t have any business being there and as I opened…
Essays and Poetry by Barbara Powell
and as soon as I sank into my chair I caught sight of my mouth in the mirror. The red didn’t have any business being there and as I opened…
My hands hold my arms, crossed and uncertain. My head dips, water drips, behind shower curtain. All I can hear is the spray of hot water and the breathing, the…