(i moved in a sick way
tornadoes a sick sway
all cooked under black clay)
i dreamt it again.
these instruments pushed
something up to the clouds.
it my body, i was naked and
pained; i was still asleep, dreaming of
it again.
"arrange a sin, sit me in."
1 comment:
I love this. It reminds me of Sylvia Plath. Beautiful imagery.
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