Now I can feel my momentum moving on.
I can feel them speaking through the wires.

I can feel the lists of every feeling closing in on me.
I can feel the fluttering of countless seas.

I can feel my heart pickling in its own darkness.
I can feel my neck beneath my collar.

I can feel the rapture in the rupture.
I can feel her dreaming of stones.

I can feel the blistering infinitude, breathing against my ear.
I can feel the passion of sinners and the cruelty of saints.

I can feel the cuddle of corruption.
I can feel weird or ethereal, but not much else.

-r. miller


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