poor ol mama, we miss you much we miss you so so much.

i know this raft is slats of human fat strapped together. i figured it out when i slid my finger between the beams and strings. i pulled it out coated in shiny, salty sauces. the oars have grown oily in the process. my sanity dangles from these flosses used to coax finicky fish into feeding. let's see if anyone else bites tonight.