I really ought to have done something sooner. My clothes are getting to be tight and I'm starting to show. "I know somebody," she said, "But you'll need money. Go from west to east," she said, "walk through the snow. But do you have any money?" "Yes, I've sold my fur coat." "You'll need more," she said, "walk through the snow."
All the things I have taken, you must be a monster. I can feel you there inside me, starting to grow. The Abbè Sebastian pills, the primrose label. Quinine, a franc a bottle; but you didn't go. O, the things I had to do, but now I have the money sewn into a little canvas bag. I didn't know gold could be so heavy.
Waiting for the star to rise, with you here, here inside. You, with maybe no arms, maybe no eyes.