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“...they have learned to keep steadily moving, moving all the time.”
The Decorum of Daughters.
Peculiarities kept the littlest one connected to who she was not. She tied her hair back from her eyes with dark bands and wore kohl eyeliner. Often, you could find her playing basketball with the lanky-limbed boys. Her legs were long and she skipped with zest.
The middling daughters were scrubbed clean from cheek to shin. Fastidious in applying omega-3-rich oils that smelled of tangerine and roses. Twins that glowed opal in the sun and onyx by the moonlight. Laughter was their balm to self-impotence; one could never be alone.
Astray by starlight, one discovered the eldest perched on a shelf with a notebook, humming. Unkept hair whorled in knots down a long spine and pale shoulders; she hid from the sun, for its heat split her lips and induced migraines. She took kinship with dead poets and prophets.
Photo source.
