I feel anxious when I brush my teeth.
The plastic, semi-transparent trash bag is a fresh jagged cloud.
Green pine tree fingers pulse and twitch in the wind.
Humans are forty percent stardust.
Her whiskers are the white arches of drooping parabolas.
Whenever I gossip, this Eleanor Roosevelt quote comes to mind:
"Great minds discuss idea. Average minds discuss events.
Small minds discuss people."
The ceiling is smeared cottage cheese.
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