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Jan 2015
Head spinning in kaleidoscopic daydreams,
I turn and I turn.
Your tongue traces lines across my skin,
pirouettes and flicks.
I moan the only song we'll ever know.

Needlepoint nails on your bony fingers
scratch against scars,
plays sadness and despair.
Sounds amplify in hollow chest,
echoes in the chambers of my beating heart.

Dance to the record of my broken body.
For tomorrow - just crackles and
silence.
Nicholas Myers
Written by
Nicholas Myers  Peterborough
(Peterborough)   
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