One Hundred and Sixty-Four.


Izzy circle


the press of air against lungs,
pushing down on ribs, rough
like a lover

eight strong arms pry open
this metal canister, this
tin can telephone

held aloft, you could be forgiven
for thinking this body
is floating

sun glinting in eyes already on fire
back at a safe distance
escaping conversation

what is the heaviest thing you can hold?
imagine that heavy thing
imagine your body as that heavy thing

and you just a small pilot
trying to learn how to steer these limbs
like moving through water


Sarah circle


You need to understand that I hate your footfall
Because it fills me with fear
Filling the echoing spaces between car tires and tree leaves
That even though I know the weight of your breath
I still terror
These are my boots and they fall into me
That shine at the toes
That shine at the how how how whoh wo
I fear fearf ear ear
How you
Drunk how how how howh oarhgalkgja
This is the ewya that the thaings thatches tunto tme the ht way that my fingesr fbleed at the page the a’ldiguthe the adhgidhat the rain thrain the other thain rain sht ehtoaidn gthe the agoeet hahd the aldkjoiaue
I can’t even know thow thehd;akdkthe we let our igners d the talking and thene thwe tfeahr the bwrods tha ti our eovice swant sht ott he say tea;lksdjtihga;kajdjagflkjjkjtheihawkjfTHe rain thsia’weit



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