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

- 0 1 2 +