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albatross’d shadows
wing their way across
the spongy caverns of my
heartbeat, their darkness
keening into the cup
of my palm and slowing
my hand, swallowing
piecemeal my
spirit until
there is nothing
left of me but
fear.
the tenth muse 
Yass, that sums it up, doesn’t it…..Nice piece
very nice piece. Under my fear… hmm… there must be something under our fears. I love this poem.