Loud.
Terribly so.
And once I press my thumb to the dash
I cry in pain. For it burns.

This is the thing about my fan
I suppose;
is that it kindles from pixels.
Little squares, little cubes.

Such a flare from something so little.
Such a noise from something so irrelevant.

It’s like the punching to your own arm:

If you bruise

Are you strong or weak?