We are gathered here today in a space
cluttered with you and you who I’ve cried and tore
The voices that I’ve played in my auditory canal
When sentience has made me raw.
And our collective limbs have babbled through fields
or roved on roads of tyre
Watched mitosis play with our fingers
So our heads float to bricks that are higher  
We are sewn together by memories
Shooting synapses bounce inbetween brains
The first time she wobbled a milk stone
The pink cardigan left on that train.
We will stretch out our patience to mountains
Nearly burst in our tallies to ten
But there’s always a rope shared between us
Always straw in our symbiotic den.