What if they sew me into a suit. Pearls. What if they polish the freckles from my skin or plump my lips or blot my cheeks with rouge. What if they waste their good money on satin. Or brass. Or deadbolts. What if I wish my organs into Petri dishes. Bones to science. Teeth to a quieter mouth. What if they lie (such a good girl) (always kind) (so full of light). What if I don’t want their words. Just quiet. Just a long dark. Deep as the second sea. I think when I am done, I will grow my hair and a fishtail. I’ll learn to sing.