lol haha what is this :0

we all speak in memory, in heartstrings plucked like

lyres & tongues cocked sour, like root canals. we all

test the temperature of our blood on the inside of

our wrists before bottle-feeding our young. we all

imagine our bodies a theater, our joints clicking

in overture. &, like a sunday matinee, we all

lash ourselves to a curtain call, all breathing until

we aren't. the wave returns to the sea, & we all

fancy ourselves surfers, sand bruising our lips.