A Delicate Needle
Mass for the instant, coffin for the hour.
Where is the strangeness lost and constancy refuges?
A flight of revelation in vague borders.
Absence, there’s so little of it. It´s masked.
It's hard to find where errors inscribe.
Thermal chambers can penetrate bricks.
When you're in the fridge, heart bark
becomes slow and the arrhythmia plays its melody
Copyright © Eduardo Escalante | Year Posted 2017
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