vertical escape

Standard

When the wor(l)ds intensify
to the limits of bearable,
I make my bed in the clouds,
dress in thunders,
heat with lightning,
wash my temples with rain.
As the vapours move
the scent of my skin will end up in an ocean.
Fish will swim in it.
And,somewhere,a coral will grow from it
like a wild apple tree
on a grave.

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