November 2/30
I woke up with a papercut
after rolling about in bed last night
i think it’s become a notebook
from all the lines i’ve crossed
this month
at the center, there is
a spine
consisting of
string,
adhesive,
and lots of pressure
which explains the occurrence
of paper dolls
on either side of me.
the smell of fresh pressed paper
is as sweet as the 6 perfumes
once were
and there are holes
for keeping handouts
and a boxspring folder
bulging with old tests
hiding the one before it
it’s a place of learning
to say the least
