She opened like a flower to the light, letting it wash over and warm her as she displayed her insides, trembling but unashamed. Each petal pulled and sighed and gave, and she believed she was beautiful. Gasping, pleasure moved to pain, as heat overwhelmed her. Her eyes opened, confusion becoming fear. The light had misled…


It’s a strange act, receding. That precise moment when I feel myself recoil, folding in, and in, down, and down, until fully covered, blanketed, by false calm and learned bravado. . . *featured image created by Lisa McLymont