they all say “interesting” but I anthropomorphize animals and inanimate objects so things in the house don’t always last long. we have to get rid of things. the things that watch me. but they say “interesting” and at night in dreams I shriek as I begin to dream of you again. watching me like the conch shell that sits on my dresser, you too stony, silent and always near.

I woke up yesterday after kissing you. I woke up today having you embrace me. I will wake up tomorrow scarred from the imaginary forcing a dog to lick my toes.

“get rid of that conch shell.”

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