Posted on by Maya Jordan

Lost in time

My books need changing at the library, but that would mean putting on a proper bra. We have tickets for an afternoon concert … but that would mean putting on a proper bra. Calendars have been abandoned. Without the mid-afternoon spiteful squeeze of an underwire, I barely know what time it is

Posted on by Maya Jordan · 1 Comment

Undercover

My bras have turned against me. All at once, as if they’d set a date, they have decided to pop their seams and send sharp spiky wires jabbing into the tenderest parts of my flesh. My draw is full of bras with escaping wires, ones I keep meaning to mend. The fix, sewing soft felt…