June was all sharp angles and quiet observation. She wore silver rings on every finger and looked at the world like it was a puzzle she was happy to solve. When they first sat across from each other in the dim amber light of a jazz bar, the woman didn’t look at her cleavage. She looked at her hands. At the way she tapped a nervous rhythm against her glass. At the small scar above her lip.
Then she met June.
She nodded, throat tight.
“I manage,” she replied.
June kissed the inside of her wrist. “No, love. That’s the bravest thing of all. To stop apologizing for the body that carried you here.” large breasted lesbian