today i found a baby s glove lying on the drainage board so still yesterday a leather glove from the slim fingered hand of a woman the next time i saw one it was lying half frozen and twisted on the herb and i couldn t take it now i have my own private collection all lined in rows when you open up the wardrobe doors now i have no room for my obsession lined up and labelled in neat little packets the next time i saw one it stuck inside my head and became all that i could think about and through wax seals and padlocks a hand through my ribcage past the choking i saw palms and fingers grasping shoulders collarbone crushing i imagined myself hacking desperately at a sea of appendages forward and right freeing myself like a butcher feeling the mash of bone and sinew running slowly down the front of my body and i couldn t take it any more i said i ve got to go i ve got to get out of here i ve got to go and i ran down the street i ve got to go i ve got to get out of here i ve got to go