Diana, lover of the bow. Diana, huntress. Diana, waif-like weekend model with pock-marked skin (hidden under fragile makeup) and a soft waist (hidden under billowing clothes). Diana, soft and strong; tall and weak. Diana, virgin in a low-cut dress baring a flat chest. Diana, Master’s student in Foreign Affairs. Diana, cloaked in her boyfriend’s rolled up sweatpants and over-sized t-shirt. Diana, chomping down jelly beans and gummy worms after non-nibbling on her meal and leaving another plate near-untouched. Diana who poses for selfies in the mirror and makes red lip pouts at the camera. Diana who’s never dated before. Diana, possessive, possessing a prize. Diana who loves babies, and spends an hour choosing outfits for a friend’s child newly-born. Diana dressed in a gossamer gown, who stops for a smoke in the park and makes sure we sit away from the prying eyes of men. Diana who lives at home and fears the opinions of her proper parents. Diana, virtue unchastisized. Diana who cries in the bathroom at a wedding when she finds her boyfriend’s ex-fling is sending him [unanswered] texts. Diana who is comforted, and Diana who drives home the proud SUV slightly drunk with sobs. Diana who has no muscle, who’s thin waist soft squishes when I put my hands on her hips for the wedding conga. Diana who absconds all exercise but thin-keeping yoga. Diana who calls to buy a dress and have it delivered for a wedding, because she can’t bother to go home and change. Diana, secure in her position, black sunglasses and proud second seat in the white SUV. Diana, sobbing and insecure. Diana, who claims she does modeling for the art. Diana, who won’t go to certain clubs in a t-shirt, because people know her and there are expectations.