how can i tell you what i have to if you can't hold a pair of scissors with two hands / if you can't reach the string to the bulb in the pantry how can i show you my palms they are unwashed / they are still striped with marker & your eyes are looking too far listen i remember everything you keep your crayons in the liquor cabinet so i have to ask & the foot pedal on the sewing table butts back & burns knees on carpet your face cracks beside dyed eggs and summons its doppelganger in the mirror / white as the sink you stuffed my palms with chocolate while the backs of your hands flaked like onion skin and for gods sake i'd empty my basket of everything if i could