partition your extremities. she fights for her spine, which coils around his thumb. like predator. angry for space. you know that I hide in the second hand. the afterbirth spoke of two heads, one mouth open. left there. some women eat their own placentas. museum for such fine decisions. maybe he flinched when she bit his fingernail. how could she. stop herself. you are more like decay than abundance. who wouldn’t want another tongue, designed to taste the sour fire.