Movements


Every man?
in his pocket?
a bullet?
with his name printed on it?
and on his movements?
it changes shape?
darling you try?
to get to sleep now

Now we’re paralysed
?right in the middle?
now we’re paralysed

Tiny strands
?hang from your actions?
’til what you are?
is just what you’ve done?
knowing this
?is weighing down
?upon my poor
?little heart

Now we’re paralysed?
right in the middle?
now we’re paralysed

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