tell me the story of your skinny ribs.
they tunnel through me for hours at a time,
and i swear i can see stars each time,
sprayed and scattered across a sheltered black sky.
then these stars, they remind me of how you are everywhere.
inside me, all around me,
all filled in this room,
all over these walls.
then when i dream of you, i'm sedated. i can’t tell a fantasy from authenticity
it makes me wonder where i am,
how did i get here?
and
have i reached the top of the mountain?
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