Fervent Microbes Explain Illusion

Cartoon eyes confessing balefully. Gravity meticulously choreographing every expression on their faces. She steps on a kiss and laughs. There is no carpool lane for hurried moments. No desserts named after us.

We're just people. Meat wearing fancy undergarments. Totem poles speaking with wooden tongues. Everyone hears, they just don't know what.

Spoiled by so many lies she finally admits the truth.

The demons are canvas. And the angels acrylic. Still, life is all watercolors. Campfires hating the folk songs and ghost stories. Big feasts and only the carcass left to crave.

I can pick up the bones and make new people out of them.

In little bits of skin that nearly wore us.