Because Seven Ate Nine

The sun stoked the fire in the air and we all sat around breathing it. David Bowie tongue-kissed the silence. I pictured his mouth opened wide, all tonsil and tongue.

She asked, "Is he saying, 'fame'?" and I said, "Yes."

He said, "You look like a completely different person with your fingernails painted."

I wondered about that, waved my hands around my face, asked, "What about now?"

He said, "Yes."

I did it again. "Now?"


She said, "I agree. Completely different person."

I thought about it some more. I held my arms out. Wrists bent. Hands pressed against the air. Ten red ovals.  

I wanted to say, "But I ate a fried egg this morning," "But I wiped enough times until the brown was gone," "But I put on mascara and thought about how today I probably would feel less happy than the day before." I wanted to say, "Look at my dry elbows."

But I didn't.

I sat there in my skin while they looked at me. So new. Now blonde and well-kempt. Now speaking French. Now petting Great Danes.

They just nodded.

xTx lives in Southern California. Her forthcoming chapbook, He Is Talking to the Fat Lady, has sold out on preorder.

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Detail of photo on main page courtesy of Neil Krug.

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