Am meisten gelesen ▸
Love Song to a Mobile Device
Ah my oddment, my life sentence,
my spool. How you noodle
and unrevel me when you get
out of hand! The butterflies
in my stomach must be searching
for their missing mouthparts.
(Let them eat ache.)
The insecurity screeners
at the airport made me prove
I could turn you on, but in the plane
they lied and told me
you would mess with their instruments.
Everyone disapproves of us.
They hate our freedoms but love
how trackable we’ve become:
one set of footprints,