Wallpaper drools
and oozes. Clamoring
stickiness of broken glass
bottles and plastic ones
that never did. There are
dark places he crawls
from.
Glares and snarls from.
Declares his paranoia
as his righteousness.
Stubborn as a callous.
Wormed in yellow and
chafed.
There is no room
for what they want any
more.
She thinks about it
the way she thinks
about foreplay:
Hold onto something
if you need to.
He will apologize
in the morning.
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