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Muting the lingering death


Soft guns, the hardest rainfalls
and the thousand drops
kind needles on the skin





but nothing like a full turn
only a trembling agony, a slight sound

every delicate movement shatters
inside the middle ear. The eardrums
remain completely still: this
is the best of pains.

Ab imo pectore

Loud sympathetic tone, vague mathematical immorality. I've been forgetting about the cloudy evenings. Now they are gleaming in the light of the fading summer.