maybe my arms are dry.
yet my face is dripping, the
cold sweat beads removing in
time with the everything.
kill i'll shake every sweat
drop off me like friends at a
club and to dance with you, sweat,
is impossible. flying off in
directions indetermined.
because i dance alone.
like a molecule in a bad vacuum.
the dry electrons i call arms, negatively
climbing irratically. cloud like skin.
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