How to Pose for Hustler
by Andrea Fitzpatrick
The sky: the grayness, if it were captured; if it were photographed. If her thoughts were boiling syrup left running from a tree. If the blood inside of her sounds the noises, makes the motions of a swarm of bees. That swarm of bees becomes a single body.
Repeat: the photograph.
The bed: is crisp and white and rumpled. It smells like copper and tastes like skin and never makes any noise. Above the bed is the ceiling.
The ceiling: is white and the white is a feeling like floating and also a feeling like she has covered her ears. If she continues to focus on the ceiling, it will lift her up and bring her safe inside.
Beauty: separates, overlaps, separates.
Andrea Fitzpatrick has no plans for the future. Her work has appeared (or is shortly forthcoming) in a number of journals, including Hobart, Mad Hatters' Review & elimae.