The night before was a dense dream full with the taste of gasoline. blood on the concrete, the morning after, I can't remember, another disaster. memories spill like a broken vow. pulls you down from your pedestal to a bow. in servitude with no strength for defiance, inanimate objects, another appliance. braille for fingers. speak with touch. a silent conversation below the clutch. subversive thoughts are free to shout. ignite the gasoline than spit it out.