the last consideration at the bottom of the pit

truths sit piled on the floor of my stomach,

stones worn smooth by waves of nausea,

words of such weight inscribed:

SOMEDAY SOON,

THE EARTH WILL BREATHE AGAIN

.

sometimes the sound of my own breathing tricks me into thinking there’s someone else here

i hear rocket strikes in the sounds of plucked strings

i can almost feel the earth shake,

smell the dust and the burning,

see the dying

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