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
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