Page 46 of The Secret to Belonging

snaps you

into anxiety

shoulders creep toward ears

breath shortens, palms sweat

your father’s cursive

the smog is bad

we miss you

we hope you’re having fun

nothing of substance

no actual news

your mother and brother

send their love

the fiction is so absurd

you actually laugh out loud

at the bokhandel

you buy airmail paper

tissue thin

almost transparent

still more substantial

than the words

you manage to scratch

thanks for the letter

everyone’s nice

the sun never sets

the glue on the stamp

tastes bitter on your tongue

irritable days follow

Elinor asks if you need help with feminine supplies

but you’re not having your period

you’ve just allowed historic toxicity to poison