Corridor

Almost half awake
blanket warm
That strange lopsided walk
Of sterile corridors 
A smile in the side
Threads of rotten teeth
Holding desperately to silence
Except the ventriloquist muttering
That untowardly thinks; you left a bird inside
Obtuse and andiron blunt
Chest too cramped to so childishly fly
Arms that half stretch out
The sinews almost disconnecting
Wishbone flexed
To that hyoid shout
That leaves me palely clinging 
Against the ribs a cowl
A rose in my mouth
The glass has two faces
One folding in
The other folding out
Falling sideways
Through the airy space
That I halting breathed
The miasmic shape
That you left behind

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