coming to you soon
the icy finger trailing each verterbraic spine
the glottal stop of breath as one chokingly reclines
into the telescoped sense of all near yet receding
as the pound in one's ears of heat pulses bleeding
the scattered word salad un-sense of unshed
tears, the crystal clarity of no possible escape
writhing in the invisible gripped grimace of faceless fear's
grinning, taunting, relentless soul gouged gape
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