my class is learning to read clocks. I am not
so good at elapsed time yet, but I am trying, practicing
here in abby’s sunchoked room, counting until I can pull my clothes back on, my yellow thursday underwear that has lodged in the slats of her bed.
what is happening
is not the worst part. the clock and I survive
because of each other. what I hate is that her earrings snag my hair,
that she smells like vanilla, that there is green apple
chapstick on my stomach, that she
is a girl. that she is me.
Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 1:15 PM UTC
my class is learning to read clocks. I am not
so good at elapsed time yet, but I am trying, practicing
here in abby’s sunchoked room, counting until I can pull my clothes back on, my yellow thursday underwear that has lodged in the slats of her bed.
what is happening
is not the worst part. the clock and I survive
because of each other. what I hate is that her earrings snag my hair,
that she smells like vanilla, that there is green apple
chapstick on my stomach, that she
is a girl. that she is me.
