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The hair on my arms stand
and as viscid as bee's wax
This branch off my limbs spins into two Gemini twins
Resonating sound waves from violins
With rosin dust thick in the air
Share your stare with me
Back
And
Forth
Extreme close up
To
Extreme close up
Until the dust in the air
thins
Between us
We are left over cinders from a campfire neglected
About to be reconnected
Unexpected to combust
.
.
.