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In The Basement by Pearl Sheil
published in Volume 2, Issue 1 on January 20th, 1995

I like you, floor, all grey with paint spatters near the walls
Dirt and dust collecting at your edges,
And a microchasm fading out to nowhere in particular.
You are a good listener, floor, and you are adept at holding up my feet;
A privilege, might I add, that you wouldn't have had in another
As I walk to and fro across your chest
You don't moan as wood does, nor shush me to silence as does the snow
You seem very content between your walls, floor.
You seem very sure you ARE a floor; that whole heartedness impresses me.
Unpretentious, unoffending, chaste, you lie contentedly between my walls
As a good floor should. You don't vie for my attention nor my eye
Flaunting flamboyant rugs nor peek-a-boo furniture.
But perhaps, floor, you would like a coat for your nakedness
To colour you the same as your vertical companions?
Or would that confuse you and make you guess that you are now a wall
And should stand up? That wouldn't do at all.
Did your crack come from you making that very assumption before
As paint spattered down across your belly?
Just in case we'd best not risk it, for your sake.
Did I ever tell you, floor, that I like you ...

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