You have no new messages

What is our offense, what is our cause, how do I know you are not disguised in the lens of my eye, masking my movements with a will not my own and my words are spoken so your lies show no teeth, I hold out the phone when it is not ringing, as you tell us the story of our ending, placing your hand over my eyes and revealing the prism, how you hold the memories of birdsong without ears to transcribe their meaning. Who are you?

 – Josh Fleming

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