I can’t feel my teeth. They must’ve been knocked out while you were
knocking them out. Other things I am I am missing– the fully human bit, I have no
ease with my bodily processes, I’ve lost desire both in and out of food for spice. Where
I’m put is film-covered. Before this week the bathroom was not woven
from such a claustrophobic fabric. I did not imagine a 5X5 prison and asparagus induced
no retching nor a more general fear of natures. Maybe leave my teeth
where you found them. I’ll later manage the hate it will take to reincorporate my bite.