we didn't read our fortunes
because the tiles were supernaturally
clean
we pressed the cookie against our teeth
waiting for a phone to
dry
we soaked the paper with our pen
forwarding the bones to the mortgage
lender
we rested the morsels against our tongues
hoping they would dry before the first
bite
we would not hear about the future
in which we would come to
live
we wrapped the blood from the feast
in the shirts we could not
afford
we did not believe in words
we questioned what they would mean to
us
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