going home_2

i cut my fingers on oysters the other day. it didn't hurt really. didn't realize those strips were actually my flesh being sliced away until the next day when i saw the white lines on my fingers.

i returned to my nest today and found it quite despoiled. all the emotive attractive had been stripped away, like the upper layers of my epidermis. i could barely smell my scent there. and perhaps i imagined even that hint. *sigh* if only my pee was more pungent? more filled with double bond carbon rings?

my space was empty and void. my cubicle now like one yet to be used. tabula rasa. all that made it my nest, gone. my nest-mates look like pleasant strangers. empty subjects with no substance behind them.

(grey sky, pale clouds. snow?
a frosty wind through leaves. brrr!
where is my jacket?)

should i not have returned??