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Anna Winham as Velvet Envy

 
 P R O F E S S I O N A L B I O G R A P H Y  By day Anna convinces libraries to buy English translations of foreign-language literature, markets children's social reading platforms, writes activism guides for documentaries, and teaches high schoolers how to do physics, neuroscience, & calculus. By night she writes about all these things, mixing short stories with nunnery, poems with bacteriophage transduction, essays with eating. Give me an audience, she cries, and I'm alive. Her current project is a flash fiction//short story collection in the mixed traditions of Daniil Kharms, Jeanette Winterson, and Michael Lockwood.

P R O F E S S I O N A L B I O G R A P H Y

By day Anna convinces libraries to buy English translations of foreign-language literature, markets children's social reading platforms, writes activism guides for documentaries, and teaches high schoolers how to do physics, neuroscience, & calculus. By night she writes about all these things, mixing short stories with nunnery, poems with bacteriophage transduction, essays with eating. Give me an audience, she cries, and I'm alive. Her current project is a flash fiction//short story collection in the mixed traditions of Daniil Kharms, Jeanette Winterson, and Michael Lockwood.

Character Biography

Velvet Envy entered this world insidiously, cloaked in the deep green of midnight jealousies. Each furtive glance, each raging romantic tempest, increases her solidity. In societies of great harmony, she hardly exists, manifests as a shadow of herself, a ghostly apparition half-seen in the mirror. Here, though, she's fully fleshed and will drain you of your senses. A natural enchantress, spells come easily to her, as languages to a young child, and she may bewitch you if you're not violently protecting your morals. Velvet is soft and gentle, dark and devious; you'll swear you never trusted her yet trust her still. She's a warm companion or a seductive ensemble, but as night swallows the sunshine you find she's permanently untamed, a creature of the wilderness, a singer of sweet sirens' songs.

She likes it here, enjoys the strangeness of embodiment, the ripples of poetry through parted lips. Poetry, like Envy, is called forth into the world through small moments, becomes fuller the more it is considered, acquires body through speech. Velvet, unsure of her age, sleeps inside grandfather clocks, befriends only trees, and adorns her body with conflict.

 

alexithymia

you cannot taste your own tongue, i think,
or maybe only mine is tasteless. no
measuring stick on reality, i pour out
lies about myself: this is the miracle of language.
untruths/imaginations
freedom dreams/dreams of myself.
i build universes inside an hour,
inside a page, inside a tasteless brain. i cannot
imagine
why you like me: me i cannot imagine, or
imagine in infinite iterations.
words are slow. i am already
not what i was. i am always
practicing my loss of myself, spinning
words like enough lies will save me.