The fluffy buoyancy of my full bust is dreamlike. I am a woman of pillows and teeth. When society came to rain on my parade, I shot the newspaper editors first. In my glass feet, a million shattering lines from the impact of every decision I make weighing at my soul like a backpack it just can’t put down. My hands in transparent silk gloves stroke down my man’s arms. His muscles a moodscape of masculine power. He touches my softness softly, and wakes my desires from their fitful slumber. My breasts are two globular worlds for him to survey.
Day: August 20, 2026
Drowning
Floating in the flotsam of disco debris, I lay my back over the surface of life like a blanket. I will float here until I drown, counting the pennies children have thrown into this pool while their mothers gild the pansies. Eternal life floats just beyond the permeable boundary of our haphazard existences. Gossiping in tongues about the glitter coalescing into a disco ball in the shallow end, I betray my inner glitz. My name is Temporary. My name blew away in a typhoon. My name is Fictional. My name parties on boats and falls overboard drunk. Sinking feelings sidle up to me, pressing down on my core.
Miniature Moon 