“To see and be seen
is to be taken prisoner.” ~ D. Bonta
At the end of summer, dance class recital. Grass skirts and crepe paper leis, halter tops with coral flower prints. New breasts of girls refracted in the prism of men’s eyes.
Children milled about after church service. The commons was an indecipherable blur of bodies. Where did he come from, how and why did he scoop her up in his arms? At first she laughed then squirmed. We crossed the room as she was set down. How did no one else notice?