closed sets demand their fences,
wardens of the partitioned air.
draw the maps in permanent ink.
here the prisons, there the squares.
but the people,
oh the people,
they bleed through every wall.
they tunnel under checkpoints.
they refuse to heed the call.
normal is a lie told by architects,
who fear the fractal heart.
no cage can hold the murmurs
of a world that won’t stay apart.
in zero sum bloody games,
there are red lines.

the "tea for" is one of them.
"tea for" is just a "tea two please,"
a "me two" with a badge.
a cop in a theorist’s robes.
so "tea for" or "tee four" are the same.
i am a non-hausdorff-ian,
i mess with the quantum mechanics
of tiny and minute details.
that is what freedom is all about?
or isn't?