Chimerical

By
Static in my abdomen,
You polish porcelain with bare hands,
I succumb to the fire,
The inlet to the powerhouse,
Words fall from the source,
Absorbant and ardent,
Water snaking along curved shapes,
Gentle, delicate, platonic,
So fragile, we hold onto us,
Spinning ever closer to the sun,
Eupnea.





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