Shoulders
Wystan and my mother, although they are not related, have the same soft
shoulders, downcast, rounded with the pearly luminscence of breasts. The
fat fully molds the shoulders. They are at ease. I have pronounced shoulder
blades that jut out; these are from my father. My mother would often say
to me that these were the signs of a fallen angel. I was one of Lucifer's
angels that had tumbled out of heaven. Turning, I would see dark wings on
my back: the glossy black tinged with green and rose, a raven iridescence:
these were actually my lashes. One day, furious for some reason or another,
my mother slapped me repeatedly, calling me 'devil spawn', telling me that
she wished I was still inside her so that she could simply digest me, shit
me out. It was so terrifying and strange that, even now, I cannot remember
what exactly provoked the outburst; all I remember is that I heard my jaws
pop
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