I remember your letter of gun metal,

How I read it between my ribs

Before I could stand to see it.


I was executed for the fifth time that day,

Convulsing in a pool of my own heart music,

Staccato on the antiseptic floor.


Control is between your thumbs.


Make your skin detectable.

Thank you.


One day it will be as a mirror.


If you are writing again,

use the electrical font.

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