What you see in this flesh not yours.
We kid. We are not a real mouth.
We are just words. Why are words just?
Mere word, just. Mere. We are light, bored.
The way to bore is to tell all,
To drive at a slow pace, to grind
Down in the ground, to make a hole
That you fill with you as you drill.
That’s a bore’s tale. But here’s the thing:
While mere just words can’t eye real mouths,
What bores you is real. Watch your mouth.
