I had a bunch of fevers this week, and I woke up all the time in a pool of sweat, and so there I was tearing off sweats & sweatshirts and cursing, and going to the bathroom and feeling my hairline dripping down me and my neck in all its wettest glory. And I had to move to the other side of the bed so's not to sleep in my pool, on your side is how I called it. but then I woke up today, and I washed what I'd referred to as your pillowcase, and I changed the sheets so the color wasn't even the same, and I moved the lamp to the opposite side, and I vacuumed up your hairs, and the edges of a condom wrapper (how the vacuum shouted then!) and I cursed more, and then I screamed at a tiny yellow spider, for even though I don't fear them they still make me startle in girlish outbursts always. all of the bits of sentences, though, I save for you for "one day" inside a pink envelope. because though I sucked all remnants of you up in that stupid plastic machine, still you remain or at least I can't have you not a little, for now. for now
