She had always been the dutiful child.
She loved to sit with our parents, telling them
about how well her lessons were going.
Me, I would sit in my room and write myself
into stories, pretending I was somewhere else.
She had always been the beautiful child.
She never had to curl her hair or do makeup
to make the boys around her look.
Me, I sat by myself, casting illusions
to make myself look like ...