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Amid the bodies of the trees, or next to the sea, I stand perfectly still, a circle around myself. I am my own address. At home, I turn off the lights, think more clearly about invisibility. Whenever I pull back the curtain from the window, I hear the microwaves listening to me. They’re godless, like animals, but so are the gods. At room temperature, I talk to myself, anonymously. I’m the person I was when I was born, what I say isn’t a surprise. Sometimes, I wonder if the future is still interested in me, and I forget what to say next. The TV says, Ask your doctor if your heart is strong enough for love. Maybe I’m not just human, but here for some other use? Tonight, before you arrived, I secured the perimeter. I shot the snakes hiding between the cars parked across the street. Then I went for a walk. Are you sure you locked the door behind you?


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