The way people hold toilet paper

their fights over the price of fresh meat


the golden green parakeets sing

a lone fat rat chewing bread


bats swoop low through the rafters,

graze their heads finding home


three figures sit in the glare

and gently sizzle their skin.


The way we used to stand

close to strangers


the feeling of my body, alone

in a room, is not scary anymore


until the tiny frames fall off the screen

parting notes.