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that feeling

that feeling– the
warmth/numb of skin under self–
how
nerve folds,
burning/
casting in for fear of char–
that breath/
stagnant,
waiting
for tide of motion to sooth/to part its
wake–
that silence,
boiling steady in simmer’d spot
so distant as to be unreachable yet
scarring to touch–
what
lies upon this wind in making fragrance/heat
a palpable taste of something/
of lightened air
in rub of ‘neath?

unshuttered window
fore

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