You are the one. Solid the spaces lean on, envious. You are the baby in the barn.
No day is safe from news of you.
All the heat and fear had purged itself. I felt surprisingly at peace. The bell jar hung suspended a few feet above my head. I was open to the circulating air.
I was my own woman. The next step was to find the proper sort of man.
I am what I feel and think and do.
After all, we are nothing more or less than we choose to reveal.