Jacques-Henri Lartigue

Lipstick stained Starbucks cup in the middle of a protest. Tween-y little graphic tees with big logos. I look at her pictures. Girls laughing with their tits out. 

I'm so holy with my black coffee in a Pragu bottle- not even, it's Trader Joe's brand marinara- and my thrifted plain clothes. My tan skirt has a hole in it that I keep fingering. My pictures are bad. They're all blurry and dark. I clumsily posed my friends against each other. They smoke cigarettes and look at the camera in contempt.

I became a teacher's pet to make up for it. Raising my hand to say, "This reminds me of- what was that photographer? The French child at the turn of the century?"

Jacques-Henri Lartigue
Jacques-Henri Lartigue
Jacques-Henri Lartigue
Jacques-Henri Lartigue

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