melancholic

in a swarm of heat, the flesh soon
rendered tight and suffocating. the
tears pooled on sheets, cheeks
turning wet and wrinkled, as if
barely swimming. the body ravaged,
trembling away at emptied words like
an inflated currency. love is a
commodity, sold over and over until
a tragedy of the commons reaches
inevitable. the only sensuality remains
in the dystrophy of our soul.

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Published by

c.v. grace

here lies my veins, tangled and suffocating.

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