12 Issue-2 · 12 of 12
An egg from another reality hatches into me,And I find her in the bakery.Her boyfriend lingering at the counter While she works.
Men in lab coats approach as we walk the alleyBut a hit of dopamine can never balance the ledger.She took me to a rundown rental, empty soil. No furniture, no food, no soul.
Like a spider on my leg, nerves are approximate. My hand was in her panties without a single memory.In silence, an absence, what a strange gem I polish, A newly honed hostage held in a leap towards oblivion.
This isn’t your house, I say, remember the white sidingAnd green trim, but she ignores everything, Including my morning alarm.