morning light fills the room where my mother pursues her obsessions. she does not notice, but to me, the world is being born again.

i run across roads in the night & i fall in love with the shapes that my sillouhette makes.

it's a little colder in the mornings now. we ripped up the carpets & underneath there was a layer of cork. we tore away the cork & underneath there was cement. our hall is uneven & grey from one end to another, no intention of ever being carpeted again.

just now, i imagined you were tickling my foot. it was odd. maybe i just haven't laughed in that long.

i'm a fool for missing you, i'd fall for anyone who gives me the time of day. & there you were.

i can't remember what it's like to kiss someone. full, on the mouth. in the dark.