AS A SILKWORM WEAVING & DYING AWAY AMID ITS PERFORMANCE

WONDROUS PAIR

. . . s i l e n c e 

It breathes through my mouth
Fills up my chest
Spreads over my womb  
 
In a little while, I no longer know
up to where it does reach
and wherefrom I start

h u s h
 
A lock – an interlude
A guarantee of a near death
 



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