who can sleep when my heart beats so loudly

little spindles
of static discharge
crackling across
my exposed heart
cardiac infarctions
in quivering waves
of adrenalized sparks
coursing through
a degeneration of
squalid exhaustion

spasming clusters
of heartthistle spurs
in a tragedy of
disambiguous thunder
raining heavy blows
along the tender soul
of meek acceptance
a sparse conjunction
an intersection of
disembodied desires
and carefully woven
silken dementias

adrift upon the
warbling echoes as
my pulse engulfs
the solid mass of
red tinged charcoal
smothering illusion
into a sultry swill
where sin and succor
coalesce into another
dreamshit allegory
with insomnious sighs
blistering lobes
into a slurry of
derelict demises

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