He is a makeshift man.
Trapped between two teeth.
Unyielding.
I remain very wary and expect revisions.
We bleed into one another.
Fight back noxious fumes.
Still, I am the one that ache's intensely.
"Unhand me!" I cry,
clinging to him.
I beg this make-do man to stay.
Beg him to hold onto me.
Through fire and flames.
Vapor and smoke.
But he dissipates, as ad hoc's always do.