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Urban Decay In a bathroom littered with layers of tomboy: t-shirts, a flannel, and a battered ball cap, she looks at her naked face. Her skirt pinches, her thighs stick together; her toes crunch into points with a four inch heel. There’s an itch in the back of the strapless bra which already slides slowly down her rib-cage. She covers pink lips with a caffeinated Bruise bullet and dusts her eyes with Acid Rain and Polyester Bride. Lashes Metro black and a fine coat of Grifter glitter and a new face looks back. She kicks aside her skater jeans and poses. It’s time, she thinks, to remind them that she’s a girl. back to the archives All work on this site (writing and illustrations) are copyright 2003, Iz Church

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