I want to know all those inanimate parts of you, what trash you choose to surround yourself with. The books, cds, records, and posters which each serve as tiny testaments to your consumptive power. I want to know precisely how much dust covers the copy of that beloved novel, or how many scratches cover the surface of your favorite cd. How many creases are on the spines of those forgotten textbooks, or post-its left to bake in the sun underneath your window. How many fingerprints cover your mirror, and how many balls of yarn stay hidden from sight. In short, I guess I want to look through your stuff.