Weak Spots Xvi

In those sweet voices, Traces of euphoria and poisons, Pour out in waves, Entering canals Sound becomes delicacy, The body Enraptured —Horripilation— Titillating the flesh Instruments smite the still air— Smokes and oxygen Are not the only source of breath— My tears form in perspired release Those bumps spreading, In the strangest of places, Through the doors. . . Through the windows. . . 2.16.20