LXXV.

This is what bone-tired means: enough energy to eat, or cook, but not both. When you put your feet up, your calves knot and jump your legs off the tabletop. And so you are drawn downwards, to the couch, to your back, to your back on the floorboards. Tired in the arches and calves, in the thousand angles that make up the musculature of the shoulders, in the sides of the fingers, tired even in the web of flesh between pinkie and ring, tired in the smooth soft dime behind the ears.

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