we never wondered who built the mobile, only that it spun enough to distort the ceiling
I dismantled my white noise machine
wondering what made the lullabye
inside
I found hordes of insects
killing
sucking
fucking
birthing
the sound of insect orgasm
and death
the miracle of insects joining the fruitless orgy
helped us sleep
I guess we aren’t much different than them
inside a tiny box of
ceaseless noise