For breakfast today, we sat at the kitchen and, like I learned in my etiquette class, I folded a napkin on my lap and helped you fold yours [you had clumsy hands]. We then took turns feeding each other things we both wanted to hear.

[‘Find what you love and let it kill you.’ We were both professional murderers by now.]

For lunch, I sat alone, elegantly using the fork, spoon, and knife in their respective order to dissect our conversations. I grew too full and had to stop mid-way, though.

[I don’t know how to occupy my skin so I occupy yours, I spread out and invade every square inch of it.]

For dinner, we sat at opposite ends of the table, giving each other our backs, and fed on the gnawing silence that we harbored and looked after.

[We are too heavy. am too heavy and there’s no space for me in you anymore.]