Flip for me, twist for me
Tell me I am not broken
Fighting with the dissonance
Is not a real problem
I am a warehouse of cables
Improperly stored
Sipping at colourful cocktails
And swiping at moths
Comforted by a store-bought
Robot with retina scans
I am badly connected
But I am not broken
Drip drip drip and erode
Flash, sparks, follow
A hole, a door, an avenue
Run, man, run!
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