They. Who? Remixed your soul. A name chopped past MIRAFYN Then a number, roughly, an age? A scratch of photos suggesting a girl. You? Too Old. 24. We bear the weight unnaming You of living. Who? Leave this place we will find you Followers who know better, me Who cannot figure out why No better, tho I sure as hell feel it Come to my bones. "I so want to touch you To your face, lips, Can we get acquainted?"