crackle in my hands
like a fight outside my door
like i don't grow up a doll
my feet can leave the floor, though
like i'm no other plans
aching, i press there
like i've never been a peach
like the bed is unfamiliar
the stretch within the reach
like what, i change the where
stubble on my limb
like it's never had your palms
like it's make some kind of statement
mournful for the swans
like some loner choir hymn
jaw, what magnets me
like a bow-bounce on a string
like woodwinds for a sunset
the human voice i sing
like the most of you i see
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