The world seems so clean if you only looked up.

I see an ocean that’s spilled out of a wineglass, its body clear and sparkling and folding over itself. I see a ribbon of sand.

Even things that aren't broken can be fixed.

And everywhere girls, tumbling from trees like orange blossoms and hitting the earth with sickening thuds. They crack open.

She has the majesty of hurricanes and explosions.

There are so many of us, so many girls. The world wants us for our wombs or our bodies, or it doesn't want us at all.

...maybe hope isn't such a bad thing. Maybe it's what keeps us together.