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In Confidence

It only happens when my eyes are closed
my hands
they slither in following
sinewy muscles inwards
as if the soft skin covering didn't exist
alternatingly taut and loosening
but silent
I feel them to reassure myself
many times over
wander on
grope my organs
testy
self inflicting
critical, occasionally correcting
marrow texture, nascent,
between two finger tips
bone smooth
lingering on the other hands tips
rib cage intricate
an audible organ
beckons
here I caress
and massage
there is pleasure
almost a helping hand
the beat
more, there is more
a flow
feeder tubes
liquid slushes, sloshes into
skirmishes, battles
war, constant war

the (eye)lids I have kept closed

à présent (at present)
laying bare the innards

am I handing over
the key
to my bubble
recorded discord

stranger still
to strangers in
deed

must tell
must tell all