It's Important To Tell Your Story. It's

You Asked Me Who I Thought I Was Before. I Said Maybe I Was A Fish Because I Love Water And You Said, You Thought A Mermaid, Maybe. If You Were A Mermaid, You Said, If You Were A Mermaid, I Was The Sea.

Each Of Us Has A Family Tree Full Of Stories Inside Of Us, Dirk Thought. Each Of Us Has A Story Blossoming Out Of Us.

What Shall We Do, All Of Us? All Of Us Oassionate Girls Who Fear Crushing The Boys We Love With Our Mouths Like Caverns Of Teeth, Our Mushrooming Brains, Our Watermelon Hearts?

I Will Be Thin And Pure Like A Glass Cup. Empty. Pure As Light. Music. I Move My Hands Over My Body - My Shoulders, My Collarbone, My Rib Cage, My Hip Bones Like Part Of An Animal Skull, My Small Thighs. In The Mirror My Face Is Pale And My Eyes Look Bruised. My Hair Is Pale And Thin And The Light Comes Through. I Could Be A Lot Younger Than Seventeen. I Could Be A Child Still, Untouched.

The Circus Tent Was Flowing Pale In The Rain Like A Fleshy Flower Lit From Within. It Seemed To Bloom In The Downpour. Drops Of Rain Caught On Rafe's Eyelashes, Blinding Him As The Circus Light Struck Them. He Groped For The Flap, That Slit In The Fabric That Would Reveal Her To Him. She Was On The Rope Again, Her Skirt Flashing With Tiny Mirrors, Hair Braided With Petals. He Looked Up At Her, Dizzy With It, Seeing Her Face Framed In The Parasol. There Were Bluish Shadows Around Her Eyes.