pg 48


June 20, 2009, 9:11 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

he wanted her trees to die. she wanted him to get better at making oatmeal. there were always pockets where uniforms didn’t feel like they should’ve fit if they were to fit. wouldn’t you be home by now? warm. non-hungry. your voice sir along with the blips and beeps are so subtle, are rooted in ontario trees. are rooted in the fort my ears have set up in my heart. i wanted to burn a dictionary in front of you. i wanted to burn more than that. you wanted me to stop coming over to watch videos. i reminded you this was the deal we had made before. you know how much i hate when passive-aggression mumbles its way out of a room. we both agreed that tea tree oil has a nice ring to it. i cut my hand too deeply when we promised to never mail anything to each other. he could feel the crazy glue tying up his cut. she said that ant farms are bigger than you would think. and it’s similar. he didn’t get it, didn’t tell her, nodded. it was lonely in the hall. the kitchen was painted warm yellow. they figured this was why the food tasted like it should. his ears were sore from listening to nonsense. her eyes were sore from writing and reciting it. i want to cut my fingernails at the same time you cut your toenails. i want to synchronize the sound. i don’t. then maybe we should break up. not yet, i still can’t find my calculator. you said nonsense would be ours to throw away. you can’t quilt with anything other than determination. that’s a fact.

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