~ for Ann Lauterbach
Breathe in musk of rain
to diffuse the hum
of her words. Exhale. Repeat.
And still the hum, language
dismantling synapses, vowels
so tender, yet splitting
my ribcage wide, too open.
A labyrinthine tremor
in such stale flesh,
making me breathe, again,
as new.
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