Abstract
There are two places where the brown boy feels long. In the mirror, he stares first at his stomach which is perfect, framed by two small lines that cut into him and point to his feet which hurt from running. In the mirror, he cannot see his feet, but peers around to his muscular calves, turns his left leg in and thinks there could be a point to this action, an endless motion driving him down further as his body slips out of the mirror's frame. His left arm follows his leg. He is dancing. His hand curves with his foot. An arc, two. His knees stay strong and terse, solid, while his elbow breaks in back toward his side.
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