Madness

If you touch me, my skin will crawl,

and underneath my bones, behind my flesh:

numbers, infinite numbers made of pixels

link together like metal chains

grounding an insane dog.

And under the multiplying heat of scarves

I give up my struggle and instead,

kneel into a pool until only my ears surface

among fresh grass and pearls.

You may take a reflection of me

to light the cell that you call home

In the presence of the teacher, beg for hands

for that is all that’s left of me

to hold on to.