Bear Bones, Lay Low

Voces De Humo

Vices risen catch raw in the throat and salivate, shout into the ear of a friend ditching a sweatshirt, dizzy in the heat, step outside for air you intonate. Red heat lamp and bellowing patio doors release, brushing hips and shoulders and damp backs past. Words change hands, slipping sly as girder braced strip lights. Just like under the garden. Ears ringing, legs like jelly, everything eventually always comes back again into focus sometimes. Sunrise at the main station. What was it you said.