Subcutaneous Triptych

Carry your sounds
like a wound,

a camelback
prophet,

sighing in whispers,

the dragging of
a fractured limb

on the back of

a wounded animal.

Carrying the notes,

harmonies made
distant,

melodium and
melancholia

made like a lithe
figure,

dancing before
the minstrel’s post.

Tied to the
livening

of a souless gaze.

All for the cause
of a life made happy,

all-neglecting
of what lay deeper.

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