if this air i breathe rushes breathed by all others
in this busy electric glow that makes us We
i will keep it neon: i will keep the sparks embeded
and sunken into the depths of my lungs
so long as my breath holds still. the groan of the current
is silver, seemingly planted into my ribs
where it takes root and blooms—it burrows through my chest
until my heart stops its infernal thumping. it is a plug
into the lightningsmooth crecent that drains my blood
and keeps me forever grounded—i feel no more pulsing.
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