Those who live and die for numerology
I want to be poetical and lyrical, and weave words through the air like a dancer's ribbon or a nightingale's song. I want to craft the internet out of paper to fold it up and paste it in a notebook. And to open mobile phones and find watch parts, ticking gently with the turn of a key. But I gave up dancing. And I could never sing. So what is electrical stays that way, to be manipulated by unfamiliar hands, like a puppet on a string.