waking jonas cannot brain today

it always goes

sometimes i just need to crawl underneath the comforter, far under and completely enclosed. with my knees in my chest i cross my feet, right over left and realize that is what happened in the womb.

at 21 inches i was too long for my mother; feet crossed and pressed. after i was born they had to brace me to straighten them out. but it is comfortable still, to let them fall back together under me, under the covers in the dark. i’m still inside and i don’t need to know that someday i’m going to die.

i am under there as long as i can stand. until i have to come out, i have to breath and that is the apple.

i can’t go back and i have to share the air with everyone else. it is the same air for those who love me as those who don’t know me or don’t care. it comes in and it goes out. comes in and goes out.

it may not always come in, but it always goes out.

this afternoon maxwell came to investigate me in the bed. he gets concerned when stuff is different from the usual happens…when the tessa isn’t doing as ’sposed. he is shy but curious so i lift the covers and bait him with something irresistible…a cave. he is warm and simple and floppy.

he is on the outside.

That’s how I sleep. the only thing that peeks out is my face. It’s probably best that I’m single.

do you surround yourself with pillows to make a nest too? i do.