Luyện nghe bài hát Maps In Her Wrists And Arms

In the tent of powder and
Vultures at a carcass that feeds by hand
Longing to
Waits to hear the
Of their wings heave as they fly away
Some will stay for
There's in her wrists and arms
And the lies like snow around the bed
Glowing white, a sculpture of
Or a jewel like a crumpled, moon
in her mind
If she moves too
It shatters so quickly, leaves nothing
The old lady
Sometimes when she her eyes
The room has filled flowing sheets of silk
There's maps in her wrists and
And the morphine terror bread and bliss
In the tent of and lace
She can hear some violins, the strings
Threading the room