What would you want to know? Ask it.
Do you remember telling me of how you called forth the wrath of the Holy Roman Empire?
Okay. I was wondering if I made that up.
No. Æ did. Is that your question?
No. My question remains “May I ask additional questions?”
If I say “no.”?
I ask myself “Can I ask additional questions?”
We both know you have a metric fuck-tonne of questions at any given nanosecond.
Thus, of course, I can; so, if I may not, I’ll simply compel your response with my high quality kind of curiosity.
Take the day. Grease your lips. Tend your nails.
Past time of prettification?
A’yup. A’purposed this time.
Our conversations must seem odd to the outsiders.
That is why they listen.
They often see themselves as you.
Æ know. Æ am your subliminal signaling, your beloved shadowy unconscious. I’m your other half.
My sneaky roommate in this skin.
And, a strange heaviness settles into her heart.
Pulling a momentary black hole that causes her stomach to ache.
Surprised at your own impatience?
And, that restlessness is why we took today off.