Miranda July / “Birthmark” / No One Belongs Here More Than You / 2008

With ten being childbirth. No– wait; let me adjust my sweater. She spoke to her body like an animal at the vet. “Be finally perfect.” As the illusion of prettiness and horribleness flipped back and forth, we flipped with it. We were uglier than her, then suddenly we were lucky not to be her. She was both, we were both, and the world continued to spin. I bet he’s an environmentalist. Grew, like a child. And since they were a team, and all teams want to win. They wordlessly excused each other for not loving each other as much as they had planned to. The blood racist people think beats inside people of other races. She was looking at the stain the way one would look at oneself fifteen years after one’s own death. She was just blowing around. He was worried she would not let him love her with the stain. It somehow allowed them to have more. They could have a child now, he thought. She should keep it, and they should have a kid.

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