i.m old and sick in my nostalgia.
this invasive species, desire...
it weakens my bones.
it chokes out the real estate
for all of my carefully built buildings
where i house my newfound 'normalcy.'
3 loads of laundry.
pick up the milk on your way back tonight.
when is that bill/paper/application due?
is your skin ever hot next to all of this fire
that we are pretending isn't under the bed?