demanding the attention of all those in his bin.
They all stand stiff as the daily flow of light runs,
racing through the water pipes,
softening every object into a more human like figure.
Relieving them from their tense figure.
Spread throughout the box,
the ordering hammer’s triplets brothers,
they sulk that they weren’t given the chance to rule the box.
They hang on levers, barely alive, dangling apart from the rest.
Next to them live boxes and arrows,
shot awake by the bolt of light.
The yellow shine runs through the box of origin,
leading a pathway for life itself.
Running into the animals of the crate,
giving them energy to roar.
The roar exercises up into the tormented man,
his legs and arms being stretched apart by a machine,
but the light still giving him what he needs.
In the very middle there’s a husband and wife.
They drip light into each other’s hands,