I don't think anyone knows my name. I don't even think the point is for people to know. It feels easy to leave today until I'm walking home and playing pretend like I'm saying goodbye and I'll never be here ever again and then my guts make noise excruciatingly loudly. Like they know I'm not finished being unknown, like I know it's a secret pleasure to be unknown.

Remember with certainty that everything is everything and everything will be fine. This is for my mom. The next time I see her, it'll have been the longest I've gone without seeing her. I want her to hold one side with her pinky and I want me to hold the other with mine.

She was still young, but the surroundings became saltless. She sucked spit from her throat to taste, but cringed when she came close to licking. Her body became not her own. Her tongue fell out, the only thing she could smell was her vagina like her nose drooped down below her belly and her nostrils suctioned onto her crotch, her paperclip ankles rotated in circles and melted off. Her right shoulder burned burned a hole through her pillow at night. Her hair swept around her brain through her teeth and into her stomach. Her head didn't exist.

Oh, yes! Haha. We've all seen her around this neighborhood. There's no reason to be scared of her because I think she's already scared for us. I don't know if she's human or not, but we've all come to think of her as one. Kind of. I guess it's more like how we register in our minds the cats dashing across streets or the unleashed dogs that sit near wherever their owner rests or even squirrels or pigeons. She knows where she belongs and what she's meant to do. Really no need to be alarmed, you know. Seeing her around here is just everyday life stuff.

The cows kissed last night. You remember how they kissed, right? It's not just me that stared? It was like they waited all afternoon , like they were distracted from their day thinking about that moment coming soon, like it was a secret but not a dirty one, like they have done this every night for the past seven years, like they hadn't slept a wink since.