Tectonic vibrations
shaking the chest
Echoing nymph
in the cave of sound
Gasping for air,
breath stuck in the throat
Clenching the aversion
in the dying fist.
Down in the core
of the gathering world
Slowly like a saw,
breathing cutting through
Piles of slow-motion
seen by the withness
Flooding sensations
are lifting the skull.
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