These words scratch our raw throats
when cast forth in binary rage. I lose

feeling in my hands when
I hold you tightly to not

let the pain inside. Rubber-stamped
roadways and upturned machines

guide us up to greatness. We cry and cry
and the birds mimic us; empathy

takes wing. Open the jars and the
dusted shutters that conceal us. So soon

we propagate and infiltrate again.
Behold! We revolt and are now truly

lonely in roughshod arms dealt
over counters where we only have our

fathers to bare.