Spells
Words,
Sniffed by open ears.
Tangled sounds, of throats whose thyroid pounds,
For sakes, palavers and second rounds.
Hearing me, I learn to hear of you,
Your words my throat encode.
Vocalizations, tell tales of supplication,
Certain senses must've forebode.
Copyright © B.J. Fitz | Year Posted 2025
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