dying is not enough: I watched polyester fiberfill secrete from tear ducts in an effort to prove I was still capable of giving people something to rub between their fingers

on tuesdays they conducted a pageant for what was lost some danced or sang or pulled plastic balls from a spinning cage or ate shrimp that hadn’t defrosted or decorated the things that carried them from room to room and wondered how long they’d be there and where their kids had gone