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[I apologize for misplacing your face]
1. I apologize for misplacing your face. I redeemed myself in finding it. Yes ex-dear, it was under the couch, fixing the imbalance. I could watch television without tilting. Now I know why. I was sitting on your face for balance. Thank you. 2. The slits in the bottom of my feet are still exposed from when you snuck into my skin. You crept, slow and thin, a slight unnatural bulge between muscle and epidermis, faintly noticeable and obscene, up my legs. You burrowed when you reached my stomach, and lay dormant until I birthed you out, pushing and screaming. No longer parasitic, you were exiled. 3. Your eyes used to look like amphetamine-addicted typewriters, moving right to left, sometimes pausing slightly in the middle, and then from left to right without pause. This used to make me nervous and I laughed, strong and hard. The way your eyes moved sounded like the teeth- chewing you did in your sleep. Filing down your enamel slowly, sounding the way I crack my knuckles. |  |
