There’s a tingle in my fingers
Polarizing my spine.
My vision dims,
My ears turn tin,
And my tongue sharpens a knife.
There’s an echo in the hallway.
I think something’s alive.
There’s a scrape Continue reading
There’s a tingle in my fingers
Polarizing my spine.
My vision dims,
My ears turn tin,
And my tongue sharpens a knife.
There’s an echo in the hallway.
I think something’s alive.
There’s a scrape Continue reading
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