her stubble piques out from behind straps
a) the camera doesn't see it so it's not there
-- hidden under a big baggy shirt with fabric not so thin are tits, undeniable, JUGS.
the camera doesn't see them but it sees their presence
b) under impeccable scrutiny she moves either side of her jacket to the halway point of her chest
magical syrums needlessly applied once and 3 times a day dont change public opinion, a conversation saying it like I-TAL-YIN does.
c) she spikes her vowels with a needless sense of doom. it can't and will not be fixed enough shame to sew her mouth closed.
-- articles pop up on the validity of her identity. there are people younger than her, just like her, who may or may not have a right to exist + if they're lying they don't. if they're not they're still not allowed.
*the man with a new york times subscription questions her name on the elevator (in the men's room). she drops her pants to reveal an enlarged unshaven clitoris and aims for both their heads.