She traces her naked shape with a flesh colored crayon, her image swimming in the mirror, she struggles to stay inside the lines
Her crayon shakes on the mirror’s surface, trailing over the lines that cave in, neck, waist, feminine curves giving way
She stops at the lines that explode out, breasts, hips, thighs
The crayon drops to her side, gripped tightly in dirty fingers She tilts her head to get a new angle, raises her eyebrows and watches wrinkles appear on her forehead traces those too
like in a child’s coloring book the lines of this body are too stagnant, too static She imagines scribbling the flesh crayon outside of them creating a new image