lick

who are we? am i to be something more than me? if i use my own verse and my very own questions i seem to be ignored.
is this
normal? are we only attracted to the flavor of another being if it affects us?
i wait, and lust, for that perfect sentence that makes you think brief--for hours.
i listen with a strange patience to the ghost inside of my bones. that ghost that haunts everyone.

who are we? an accumulation of flesh and pounding organs... machines? if every machine is built the same then isn't it possible for the machines to be coupled to work more powerful as a mighty whole?
who am i? nothing but a whispering match, lit but for a few seconds in time, hoping to lick the bed sheets in a magnificent building.