The Disbelief, The Embrace, The Echo

jaw open

in disbelief

in dis


and I don't fancy

piecing myself coherent.

it's pointless at this juncture;

she's punctured


and our substance

has fizzled out.

but if I could embrace the discomfort,

drown in her epidemic,

then all would be mine.

the mutual disease in our rhymes

would intertwine in a helix

where one carries the echo

of the other

and so forth.

and so forth we press,

we press down the page

and dogear the moment

our compositions

forever changed.

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