my poetry, poetry, poetry
You feel,
hot
cold
fear
tremors
You feel
very nearly,
a strike,
not cardiac,
rather
sensitive
You are stopped
the skin cells
of the lips
he dies
the taste in the mouth
and the sound of the ears
You feel,
but unconscious
you look
transparent
lost
You disappear
intangible
imnombrable
partial
beautiful
beautiful
and with life
