“obsessions are nine tenths of my flaws.”

–Atticus

my nails are short and brittle.
I like stretching my fingers,
examining my hands a new way
in the blue dyed bath
in the new insular spring
where everything is only happening
inside of houses.
I spend my moments laying on the carpet
or up here watching
my nails fall off.
reminds me of when I was younger.

when I tap the tub
they stop.
I don’t want them to get
too far.
I know how to stop myself.
I turn back to the vent.

“Ok, will you go but
no trespassing. You don’t enter.
Just walk to the  edge and
scrape your finger around
the bubble. Just feel the edge for
me and report back.”

I wait.
I close my eyes,
I see the sun.
I see the view.
there is a spine game
I will explain later that is
similar to the tap game.
I don’t do anything without
explicit consent except
walk edges of gardens,
balconies or houses.
unless they invite me in.
that’s now, not
then.
when she returned,
she bore.
I felt my body swell
with the pigment;
red
and pulsing.
sometimes when I say things
I spontaneously tap the
tub. 
when I tap the tub
it means I got
the right answer.
red.

“ok, thank you
Ava.”

I did not name them.
they came in three
with names,
with histories.

“the baths”