Girls Online

The first line is a row of girls, twenty-five of them, almost a painting, shoulders overlapping, angled slightly toward you. One says:I’m myself here. The others shudder and laugh through the ribbon core that strings them. They make a tone tighter by drumming on their thighs and opening their mouths. The girls are cells. The girls are a fence, a fibrous network. One by one they describe their grievances. Large hot malfunctioning machines lie obediently at their sides. Their shirts are various shades of ease in the surrounding air, which is littered with small cuts. One will choose you, press you into the ground. You may never recover. The second-to-last line has a fold in it. The last line is the steady pour of their names.