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In My Ribcage
In my ribcage, in its chambers,
My heart will try to remember
A subterranean something—
An almost alien feeling—
I thought I'd forgotten for sure.
The warmth I've wanted to capture
Is a slow flickering ember
Lost in my cool rain's concealing—
In my ribcage.
A cloud of black, ashy cinders
Smogs the dying flame's faint luster—
The smoky fog is revealing,
Lifting what I find appealing:
The love I hide away from her
In my ribcage.
poem
by
Tim Stensloff
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