It will have been the land of 10,000 bit tongues,
Tattooed more colors than is even possible
With life deescalated to a street address war
More quickly than the paradigm Post will ever report,
.
The land of eating your own throw-up
Behind barbed wires of invisible hate,
Each day devoted to finding a secret,
Finding a way around
Reality,
Around moth-like buzzings to the light
Around each other.
.
The eyes cast down
In accordance with the rain.