It startles me to find her, the way a sheet of glass can stand still, invisible and then break your nose when you attempt escape. Could be all the windexing I do. So shiny! So slick! Untouched. Fabulous plexi-skin shell you have there, miss! Go on, let your mom hug you in all-one-piece, the way she needs to, see? Barely a squeak across your exterior. What’s inside only counts if anyone sees it. Don’t look. And don’t count her. I can’t take it.
May 13, 2009
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