in little universes of our own reality
realities constructed on possibilities
we search for that concrete bottle
holding flesh and stone and mud
and everything the five senses
can absorb, translate, enjoy or destroy
and ephemeral sound waves
that symbolises a reality of connection
to mark our world and universes
on the millions of worlds existing
within the medically functional bodies
and when it fails to reach
those notes that make these worlds
harmonise in synchronized flow
we reach and breach those lines that
are drawn before we decide to draw them
violating rules made by grey matter and
follow the beats of pumping hearts
expressing questions of our own
little empty facial cream containers
that claim to wipe away wrinkles and
dark spots that cloud our faces
shouting out the world inside

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