Far down, so far down
Where even the cold don’t come
around no more. And life...life
is just a breath away from death.
Voices scream desires.
Some are dead and some are dyin’.
Their words are meant to fuck you up.
Cut you and slice you. Murder.
And we never touch each other,
Scared of feeling.
And I breathe in death.
I breathe your stench,
the flavor of the month.
copyright 2006 salvador cordova
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