Читать книгу Body of Render - Felicia Zamora - Страница 14

When silence does not exist & the mind drapes in whispers; a creeping creep; clock ticks etch the eardrum; fingers to throat; how lightening in passage; how all this electrification in your chest; cave for sear, in remembrance live, live, live; ribs swell, just before; a growing presence of plead, o-h g-o-d, syllables strung in temporal lobe; how a world smells of Marlboros & whiskey & you adverse to your own life, crawl back into your jaw; & you lug your torso around on sore hips, oh wait of frost to blanket this dead of fall.