![Biography of a [ ] Girl photo](http://s3.amazonaws.com/hobartpulp/photos/3472/full_cropped_IMG_3148.jpg)
She is derivative of a shovel, a switchblade, and a blue gourd. She has no grammar for death. She calls for God and God lefts. She likes the feeling of being spent. She knows only that her guardian came from glory. Run, tell the hills of her heavy breath. She spends herself pacing. She spends her friends silent, sitting. She takes the stairs two at a step. She weeps at her tale, how anonymous her beginning. She calls forth her choir, their swaying outrage. Run, tell the others of her grieving. She rests her soreness, all its ills. She spins. She circles. She rounds the cycle of her rising chest. She spills and stretches herself through. She turns her insides out and her face reds. She sunks a whale and it gives. She feasts, leashes the belly. She spoils and the levee gives. Run, tell how her name never ends--------------------------
image: Aaron Burch
