HOW I BECAME A HUM

We mirrored the mirage’s groans. We poured pollen into our microphones. We recorded our crops. We heard, This is the city’s apparatus minus the remains of a bell’s hum. We cracked the vatic eggs in our veins. We watched our eyes age. I split my thoughts. I was busy being a brook when a hidden atmosphere hatched. Then, the shore became my brains.