Luyện nghe bài hát Maps In Her Wrists And Arms

In the tent of powder and
pick at a carcass that feeds by hand
Longing to
to hear the sound
Of their wings slowly as they fly away
Some stay for days
maps in her wrists and arms
And the lies like snow around the bed
white, a sculpture of bone
Or a jewel like a crumpled, moon
Shivers in her
If she moves too
It shatters so quickly, leaves nothing
The old sighs
Sometimes when she her eyes
The room has filled with flowing of silk
There's maps in her and arms
And the morphine terror bread and bliss
In the tent of powder and
She can hear violins, watches the strings
Threading through the