Koma-Host

Spiders make their homes in my windows. And I offer up no bray nor bay. Dogs enter my property and I offer up no bray nor bay, even as they themselves may go on so. Insects light off my skin and I cannot have--but momentary and impotent rage--for their simpleness is honesty. I cannot breathe in this humidity and though I am terrified; It is all so futile and damaging to fight my own lungs and the air about them. Birds scream in the morning and as my eyes burn their midnight layers into the open light; I offer up no bray nor bay. But humans--They enter my property and light off my skin and fill my lungs with their breathe and scream into my ea