Still starving with this new sad hunger.
How do I know already where all of this will lead?
How do I know there is a We?
Others who feed. Others who control their starving.
How do I know where they gather?
How they hide in the open
On the Square wearing what the world sees as costume.
They have told me. Somehow.
And She has heard them somehow.
I shiver, feeling exposed, and seek the Square, the safety in numbers.