Rinds and shadows

A storm rolls in over the Atlantic Ocean
Rinds and shadows Clementine rinds pile on the counter in front of the now cool coffee pot, dishes dry to the left of the sink, ten am sunlight pushes long shadows of a spider plant and plastic roses across the grouted streets of the tile city that is this kitchen floor, above which I am Godzilla, my scaled arms busy tidying up our recent destruction, overheated in my rubber suit, anxious to crawl back into the ocean and await the next earthquake.

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