I've tripped over my own feet
so many times this week that I'm starting to feel that these limbs I've grown into are not the ones I'm used to. I woke up today thinking that my hair's a little duller, and my hips a little fuller, - crooked teeth. - - - I fear that the strangers in the hall can't see me. Or that they can. I don't know which is worse. --- You look the way you do every day - at me and the shapes that my shadows make under the fluorescence. I am convinced that I can taste the pity, overpowering even the bitterness of the coffee, you, somewhat reluctantly, say it's an acquired taste. The lights are too dim here to see your point. --- I didn't say exactly that they were a papercut in human form, but I also did not say they weren't.
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November 2019
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