Yet I was wound up. I tick. I exist. I am poised eighteen inches over the black rivets you are reading$$$ I am in your place$$$ I am shut in a bone box and trying to fasten myself on the white paper. The rivets join us together and yet for all the passion

Yet I was wound up. I tick. I exist. I am poised eighteen inches over the black rivets you are reading$$$ I am in your place$$$ I am shut in a bone box and trying to fasten myself on the white paper. The rivets join us together and yet for all the passion we share nothing but our sense of division.