It was the end of the day.
I lay down on the carpet and opened my ribcage. That doesn’t hurt as much as you might
think. I considered the interior with a
certain amount of difficulty. My veins I
set as highways. I built suburbs from intestines and gleaming white skyscrapers from the delicate bones hand and
ankle, with radii cranes to tend them. I
set my neurons to guide the traffic.
City Hall stood upon the thick, ropy muscle of my heart.
But no one came, and the city stood empty.
I’ve waited for a long, long time.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment