In the room, the roots of things have decayed, and like a bud, healthy, tender— the big table sprouts a little table,
the big chair sprouts a little chair.
Two bookcases— one dying, one new— the pin-sized books and brittle baby glass.
But fr [...]
There was only this joy— I was on his lap when he squeezed juice from an orange peel into my eyes.
Then he stopped thinking of me
as he lit a cigarette,
but I still could hardly walk. I came sliding off his lap
and pressed my cheek to his shoe [...]
Before sleep, I remove every sentence I've heard since dawn like a thermometer from the day's armpit and vigorously shake the madness out . . . But a huge lie boils in the mercury— the voice's quiet makes me angry, and I have the desire to peel a [...]
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