Fast cars branded and zipping a fast move like the soluble formation to preparing dinner and cooking upon a stove as and still. So inanimate
Then there's us, imagining if we could hold an echo before we know what it is, and given the heads that lean forward as the volunteers , we dream.
A line of them
Bowing to a plethora
Scratched and bright plume
So carelessly yanked before the speed
Like slaves to the acceleration,
as if
It turns them on,
As if it actually makes them sleep at night.
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