If the world is a system of strings then concrete and asphalt break up their ring,
(wings of birds flutter though spread they could further and woodpeckers peck wood, walls left only hammered)
We could be a blanket and all we could comfort God knows we're a cobweb hidden in the corner Living things pirouette their way up – they're entangled, they don't yell and hop for joy
What it is to be a girl, to be a boy, angel wings clipped fossilized tissue in synthetic alloy