my elevator is on fire


cigarette smoke waltzing in the air yellowing of my fingernails and nicotine flowing within my hair
plaque building dams in my veins
the host reacts
of course they’re not confined to any chains
time passes but the gap between the index and middle doesn’t change
clear meditation right before a chemical pillar to hold up the host called medication
the ground calls to me from this high rise with its constant flirtation
the concrete kisses harshly but once solids connect
it is liquifying


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