YYU closes the door, again, and it’s comforting.
At the desk, at the end of the bed, a stack of books on a desk (unread) by a water glass, and cords messy from the wall.
Big things lean in corners, dustily, immobile.
Wake up in the morning to a DM where I respond, “I just want to stay in bed.”
Don’t leave, stay inside, eternally internal—an incantation.
Incalculable, incapable, incarnate. Lit an incense, incidentally.
Inclined to inclosure.
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