Connected through the milk we drink and the pipes it comes through. By the mud we stomp and the air we breathe. By the simple, primeval looks we exchange, that we empathise with each other through, hanging in the air like old words.
We stand there, two fools bound together in silence, fastened by our mutual expectations for sustenance and belonging and distance. A distinctly human scent of superiority clouds over my thoughts, reflected in the calf's black-hole pupils.
We're both just here to be useful, aren't we?