on estrangement on holidays, i sleep in the extra space ship. it is my fault the house is full of forks. for so long i tried to live on different moons. one had a frozen ocean. another had star-eyed fish. the last was desolate except for a pile of broken picture frames. they were empty. don't worry though, the space ship doesn't work. not any more. it is just a lovely place to plant your teeth & wait for them to become roses. tell me, who has grown you roses? i am waiting. last week a friend asked me, "what is rest to you?" i said, "not thinking of what comes next."