there's dark above me.
my hands near what I think is a hedge—
rigid, cardboard.
beneath me is a bed, I assume.
seeing nothing with my erratic pupils—
more glossy each time I click left and right.
manufactured by openvault limited,
held by hands,
moved to my home.
rough lace on my dress.
grit on my flush face.
someone opens the box,
looks,
then discards me again
in the rain.
I wonder:
how does rain feel when it's on your bare skin,
something so involuntary and persistent.
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 2:09 AM UTC
there's dark above me.
my hands near what I think is a hedge—
rigid, cardboard.
beneath me is a bed, I assume.
seeing nothing with my erratic pupils—
more glossy each time I click left and right.
manufactured by openvault limited,
held by hands,
moved to my home.
rough lace on my dress.
grit on my flush face.
someone opens the box,
looks,
then discards me again
in the rain.
I wonder:
how does rain feel when it's on your bare skin,
something so involuntary and persistent.
