the skin a prism of wonder
turn all anti-social and the phone
goes off the hook
a prison of colors
limits of the eye
a division of fancy like
what the mind likes
just hit the button
they send census workers up
to shut tight doors
you can find our details online
that’s what it’s up there for anyway, right?
so you can take a look
the phone thrown into water lake question marks
leave a message if it’s important
the real details are bolted down and hidden
you can’t sway my freedom of thought
you can’t convince me otherwise
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