Diction


I breathe and break and pace toward it
Facing the chase and race toward it
Embellish my cowardice long for this
Til I'm meager and dull and ill for it
Recite the words like a recorded disk
Hear the sound and break my fist
Against the vibrations it creates in my skull

Til I lull and lag and drink it in
Til my cells deteriorate within
Till my lungs collapse from sin and sin
Till my eyes go black and head gets dim
And the music plays loud and thin
A sonogram shows beneath the skin
The lucidity of the dream in my heart.

So I write the letters so patiently
Concoct them like a secret recipe
Weaving the sounds so cautiously
As to render the best ambiguity
Until I asphyxsiate my normalcy
A perpetual hyperbole
That means nothing to anyone at all.

. except me.

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