Whatever was underneath my fingernails
when I was tired and trembling
My grandfather’s lemon drops
found wedged under the edge
of the ancient pea-green rug
that covered the perfect oak floors
My cuticles
Olives abandoned in anyone’s glasses
when the lights went on at 1:53
and I was always nowhere again
Icicles I knocked down with a broom
then dug from the grey snow beneath
The last page of the last paper letter
describing what they wanted me to send
The skin of my cracking mouth