Fish pond.

There’s a little pond in my backyard.
I’ve always liked when it was so cold that its surface was frozen.
The fish never died because of it.
Not even of claustrophobia.

I want a pond too.
I want a pond where I can unpack and put my clothes in my pond closet.
I want to sleep in my pond bed.
I have my stuff in three different ponds instead.
Four if I count the one in Burbank where I left my tampons.
Five if I count the one in Brentwood where I left my Jurassic Park toys, some socks, and a blanket.

I don’t want five ponds.
I want one where I can keep the things I love.
Where I can cook the food I love.
Where I can watch the movies I love.
Where I can love the people I love.

A lover’s pond.
Like the one in Zelda.

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