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Bed & face are equals, half shadowed,
Emerging: cymbal crash, dying oboe.
Now the city panned: an SUV swerves
& leaps a concrete barrier. Each nerve
Burns in the antagonist’s finger; blows
Out the tire like a brain. Then the slow
Strings, a suggestion of complexity. A nose
Brushes across the lips, tongues & curves.
They face the bed equals of half shadow.
They’re dying to crash, immersed in oboe.
This city knows pain, a series of nerves
Occasionally lit on the tarmac. Yellow
Floodlight: a burst, then black. Bullet hole:
Where secrets reside: speak into it, learn
About a circumstance’s will, a dark contour
Of the minor key. The breath grows shallow
& half the bed quakes. The face in shadow,
An emerging death. Wait for the oboe:
This wasn’t the plan. This city serves
As barrier & concrete, electrified nerve.
Its antagonists are in agony. & so it burns.
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