(With her palms dirty in her best thoughts)
James Ardis

She sought reflexive duets, the murmur of a violin, lines like: when there’s nothing left
to burn you have to set yourself on fire—

FROM THE OFFICE OF PRODUCT DEVELOPMENT: Namarie’s sexyness factor is
drastically lost in-model.

but she settled for slow jazz at night with her green tea blackhead clearing scrub

FROM THE OFFICE OF PRODUCT DEVELOPMENT: The thong-ness of her pants is lost.

claustrophobic walks through the suburbs during the death rattle of school year
Sunday evenings up and down a street that was actually named Independence,

FROM THE OFFICE OF PRODUCT DEVELOPMENT: It’d also be nice if her ass was
actually attractive.

she’d come with a pen to the movie theater and, inspired, leave with her palms dirty in
her best thoughts.

FROM THE OFFICE OF PRODUCT DEVELOPMENT: She barely looks female anymore.
If it wasn’t for the boobs you wouldn’t even know.

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