Knkstriped

Handles

The woman in the mirror is frowning, brow creased and biting her bottom lip. A quarter-turn to the left, then to the right, appraising with a critical eye. I look up and meet my own eyes, counter the expression of anxious self-doubt with a wry roll. Let my tummy relax from its tense, defensive, held-in stance. Allow the truth to seep in and expand before me. I may never regain the smooth flat planes of my teenage shape. A sigh.

The Butcher

His strong, blunt-fingered hands are clean and soft, but I know what they do, day by day; where they’ve been and what they’ve touched.

CW: If you’re vegetarian, vegan or are squeamish about where your food comes from; don’t read this. If you read it anyway and find yourself squicked out or offended, don’t hate on me. I did warn you.


His strong, blunt-fingered hands are clean and soft, but I know what they do, day by day; where they’ve been and what they’ve touched.