My hands are hot, heavy as plaster casts, useless. Don’t scratch. Dozing in and out of the room parents come and go like apparitions.
The policeman is here. I’m five in braids. The officer doesn’t see me. The landlady shook, shook, shook her dust mop over laundry my
Too cold to take the geraniums outside. Today I tried to air the wet alpaca sweater. It froze to rigor mortis in minutes, icicles