i don't know if the tinea has returned or it never left or if it left its ghost in my skin. my arms
itched all night. as my brain itched and warped. it's hard to imagine anyway not being haunted in a land of ghosts. my anger at this country has no place to go. it makes my skin crawl with ghostly impulses, cries and stifled imprecations.
yet we got through the holiday intact, i think. as intact as we can be, being man made.