Anna Mebel
I put on lipstick, took a novel,
and submerged myself in the bath
for most of the month. In the end,
a character died of old age and my skin
dissolved. I was left with a purple mouth
and a pair of lashes. After emerging,
a thick-eyebrowed man at a mall booth
rubbed exfoliating cream on my wrist and said,
"Don't be afraid to touch it. It's your wrist."