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Nightsky1,
Tails2
and Livingrooms3

























I visited non-human animals that belong to people who had just moved here—like myself. These animals are given names that can only be pronounced by tongues shaped by certain languages. As I stared at them, I felt our bodies switch. My body was being watched, touched, and domesticated. Inside a smaller container with a shorter lifetime, my world sped up with a palpitating heart. My attention fluttered. The surroundings—everything humans had created for me—became strangely familiar: they mimic where my ancestors come from. They are not as real as they seem to be. Yet I cannot live without them, and I will never find my way back home. I am domestic. The human in front of me is foreign.


 




I am domestic. The human in front of me is foreign.