i n

F

BIGGER

SMALLER

COURIER

GEORGIA

TIMES

VERDANA

COMIC

l

RECENT

POPULAR

e

u

 ^{(it's beta!)}

I come home every night to a body on our bed, made of dead wood and a string-wrapped neck. Vibrations aching in my ears, and pillowcases, heavy and sodden with sonorous tears, while he sits in sunlight, spotlight, mocking moonlight, bending strings and the arms around my back. We are boxed separately, by monsters of this industry. You with your back to me, and a sweaty sheet of bodied air, is all that’s left to breathe.