altered chords

this morning
six days before Christmas
beat poetry and jazz
run through my veins
like homemade caramel

do you judge me
for how well I groove
in the middle of my pain? From
somewhere
a cornet holds the note

I don’t dig frigid weather
but there is
something cleansing
about the other extreme
of the spectrum

how my body
had melted into July
and now when I walk outside
my organs have blended
with blood and water

and a tune that keeps me
walking on

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13 thoughts on “altered chords

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