Cathode Current

I put my teeth over a previous imprint
to see if would feel like home.
It didn’t, but I think it’s because
I don’t have words like “comfort” or “home”
any place accessible to my psyche.

I’m a visitor, pushing light through
a tube, aiming to make sense
of numbers when I can only spell
using music. It tastes like magic
when it rains, despite poor reception.

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