' Ψίθυρο κόκαλο '

' Ψίθυρο κόκαλο '

15/06/2025

Lyrical voice in the hollow hum,

limbs like fog in morning spun-

a hush between the muscle play,

flesh in fold, in soft decay. Spines a ladder, rung by rung,

climbed by breath and come undone.

Hips swing slow through velvet air,

a pulse of ruin, strangely fair. Finger’s twitch a silent rhyme,

each joint cracked in crooked time.

Ankles whisper, knees confess,

the body's script in curling stress. Oh, tongue that sways behind the teeth,

slick with song and coiled beneath-

it hums the ache of marrow’s thread,

the skin remembers what was said. Shoulder’s draw a broken line,

arched like bells mid-fall, mid-chime.

Soft decay, not rot but melt-

the way the candle’s body felt.

Muscle singing through the slip,

bone that bends and dares not grip. Swift the dance, and swift the lie,

a loop of grace, too sharp to die.

The frame obeys, the echo calls-

to twirl, to crack, before it falls. - A-Phoenix

- Whisperbone.