I like to wear red when I’m bleeding. I like to wear my long, red, flowing, soft, thick cotton skirt that hugs my body gently and flares out at the bottom, the one that gets too long if I wear it too many times without washing it. The one with the yellow and black stripes on the outside and the yellow and black dots on the inside. Love that skirt, wish I owned three of them, or five or nine…tonight it’s red pajamas and a red towel under my butt on the bed. Red, Red, Red. Today I worked with red clay, a red orb, like a uterus, but with air trapped inside instead of blood. I smoothed it, paddling it with a flat wooden paddle that looked like a small cutting board. I added a mouthpiece, then I pierced it with a sharp thin tool, right where the mouthpiece says hello to the curve of the orb. I wrapped it in plastic, put it in a box, and carried it home. It’s going to be a whistle, an Ocarina.
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