Vivienne McLemore writes from coasts of crystal, of cold.

Vivienne chases what sparkles. Vivienne is drunk on color. Vivienne is dainty in ballet flats eating cheese Danish at a sidewalk cafe. Vivienne is a crystal ghost. Vivienne is behind you.


I’m Vivienne. I’m black and pink, leather and lace, silence and sound, sweet and tart, corporeal and sublime, soft and heavy. I’m bursting with creative juices like a tangerine. I’m a diamond ballerina.

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