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Funny current


It was nothing of carnal importance. It was nothing you or I could touch
it's the current that paces the heart
it's the potential.


If the sea could fold
if the sea could fold, our harbors would marry twice. Once for the south, once for the north, twice.
Somehow they don't care to seek closure for twenty, twenty years of gain decay
but for one moment of loss.

The signal is disciplined in the way it hops from
sinoatrial to atrial to junctional to ventricular island da capo al fine

S1 S2
S1 S2
S1 S2
self-flagellation by and by.
I am the ragged breaths. You are the blood that laces the forehead.


Beneath the glass there is a definite number of beats and desperations, descending
some leaps of consciousness, fleeting angers and weaknesses, a slow spark of constant attenuation
and my death in repeat.


A woman has her seeping secrets. Her soft, her rough masks.
But a man? What is there to love in a man?