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by Lana Bella

The Thing That Soaks the Bones
and Stiffens the Grip

the caffeine is oozing so you know your
sliced blue veins beneath the skin
this routine poison
confesses to you muttering in sleep
and whose waking
finds you by midday hunger

it turns you out
guts then sugar-flecks you
anew with shots of Bailey Irish cream
you float to the surface in
encapsulated neurons
and how you breathe too quickly
the breaths that squeezed into
a scented snap on
supine tongue

the landscape careens by
with the vice and flux of speed,
you sense the ceiling clouds
with flames
and count the radiating
of wings like a quiet thunder
sprouting from your slick fingertips
so when rapture soaks
your bones and stiffens your grip
you close your eyes
to this homely ritual
that injects radiance back in your smile

Copyright © 2016 by Lana Bella

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