when she climbs into the machine box she leaves her parents outside at the dinner table their fingers clasped on the cutlery, waiting for her while here — she tries to find ways to untie the knot in her gullet. when she scrolls, there’s in her hand a bunch of dead pixels, there’s digital birds chirping across the screen and sorcerers speak to her – through her! she marries their words, like they have clouds in their stomachs ///** *** i wish the city was quieter today