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Jessica

We know little of your character.

When we hear your name we think tits and red hair and red lips like pillows.

Shiny coke can brilliance of your dress and the S shape that lies beneath.

Purple lids frame cartoon eyes and cartoon person looks out to see nothing and strains to portray your cartoon womanhood.

Play me

Games give an agency and power where there is none.

I can exercise heroics, aggression, spontaneity, without earthly consequence.

Opportunity is flung my way and Escapism lends it’s hand.

I can explore the imperfect brain-child of imperfect creators, see the seam in the sky.

Imagine another medium that drinks you up the same, where you can plunge into sea or long grass, where your actions can fill and animate the body of a character.

TV can break the fourth wall, address you, look you in the eye.

Books can call you “dear reader” but I can’t put my hands to use around Rochester’s throat, I can’t bang on the other side of the attic door for Jane to hear as a bump in the night.