I have two kinds of things, she says.

I have things that I am into

and things that I have only one of.

That there is more than one thing

that I have only one of is, of

course, the irony of ownership;

the real question, though, is

where do the circles overlap?

What are the things that I am into

that I have only one of? she says,

and looks momentarily tired.

Perhaps, she muses; perhaps

there is a third kind of thing.

For I also have many things

made of leather. See? she says,

gesturing to a large collection

of leather objects. I am also into

ornithography, she remarks. Now,

does that count as a thing that I

have only one of? For I do not

have more than one ornithography.

While she reasons eloquently thus,

her twin sister enters the room and

offers to bring us books of light verse.