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.

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