Encased, petrified
in the rigid amber
of a death grip;
their skeletal digits
gnarled, inhospitable
bring suffocation.
Ushering in softly
a traffic jam
of violent panic
in a parched throat
that no longer ferries
fatuous pleading.
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2 comments
Ultimate-consciousness, abacus… momentarily, distinctive… words. Have you been experiencing, any strange notions, like.. other worldly-gestures, even you, the supernatural. I’d like to know.
In short, yes. For the longest time, I feel.