fingers, and toes, cold.
and hands and arms and shins and thighs and shoulders neck head waist and chest.
comforted i guess to find it here still here
since every one is far away.
since every sound is underwater
amplified and distorted.
as the colors run flat,
as the hills leave me breathless but don’t look like anything,
a bird, a bee, disintegrated.
tremendous strain forcing my bones together.
the sounds i make are creakings,
like muted little shriekings.
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