I've often entertained paranoid suspicions about my fridge and what it's been doing to my poetry when I'm not looking but I never even considered that my fan was thinking about me.

What I needed most was to love and to be loved eager to be caught. Happily I wrapped those painful bonds around me and sure enough I would be lashed with the red-hot pokers or jealousy by suspicions and fear by burst of anger and quarrels.