She is a dancer. She chassés across the room, corner to corner, wall to mirror. She balances against the barre. She points one toe to the floor, the other skyward. She pulls herself apart, and that's what holds her together.
She is a flirt. She sashays across the floor, hips moving side to side, heels clicking. She sits down at the bar. She points to her drink of choice, winks at a man on the other end. She falls apart silently, but she holds firmly to the bottle.
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