they say the city is a jungle. do they mean arms and ankles and eyebrows and teeth? the colossal steel hands lift the limbs up behind the neck, up into reflections of the waves above our heads. we're all animals at the core. with the deepening of our days, we will all start to feel fur or feathers, scales or sandpaper skin. we'll grab each other and run toward the forest. little monsters trying to find our way out of a world of distorted reflections in glass. let's build our homes in the trunks of the giant redwoods. we will morph into the xylem and phloem. the up and down processes will slosh our blood around in our mouths and we'll swallow each other down for nutrients. where are the rings of age on skyscrapers? what will become of the arms and ankles and eyebrows and teeth?