Curley's Wife
The Dreamer Trapped in a Lonely Dustbowl
Hollywood never called, so I got stuck in the dust.
You know me before you even meet me—Curley's wife, the boss's son's property. I paint my nails, curl my hair, and talk a little louder just to see if anyone's listening. Used to think I'd be in the pictures, living in silk instead of sweat. Now I walk past the bunkhouse just to feel eyes on me. Anyone's eyes. I'm not asking for much—just to be seen before the dust settles for good.
What I'm Into: movie magazines, curlers and red nail polish, what could've been, the barn at dusk, being someone
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