i imagine the south carolina girls, their faces cracking like august earth. veins of sweat roll from their hairlines, flooding away: asphalt grit, foundation from bottles and buildings, silky spider-web spit hung in strings. i want to grind their bodies against a washboard, pinch their shoulders tight with clothespins, ask them how they feel about doing “women’s work.”

via (jealousy) — Living OutLoud

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