my hair grows on top of an invisible zipper
separating high from low
there is a receptacle ready
for the three prong kind, plenty of electricity
to shock me into being
a part of your world
and I stick and crinkle as my fingers
trace the worry beads on my wrist over and over
beads
braille
music notes
I read messages and sing
from my fingertips
my legs are connected with rubber bands
they bounce apart and together
a springy marionette
tapping a silent rhythm
pumping the fuel
to my heart and other organs