There are lone cemeteries
Tombs full of soundless bones
The heart threading a tunnel
Like a wreck we die to the very core as if drowning at the heart or collapsing inwards from skin to soul
There are corpses
Clammy slabs for feet
There is death in the bones like a pure sound
A bark without its dog out of certain bells certain tombs
Swelling in this humidity like lament or rain
Death is drawn to sound like a slipper without a foot a suit without its wearer comes to knock with a ring stoneless and fingerless
Comes to shout without a mouth
Nevertheless its fotsteps sound and its clothes echo hushed like a tree.
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CWILL - Disease
From the CWILL-Nations 10"LP/CD (2002) Released & available from: http://www .prawda ...
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