as I write this I think of a slow minute in the hight of summer, when nothing mattered and I was nin
... and I promise
I bet my sole existence
from my senselessly bitten fingertips
to my scarred and bleeding toes
as though aging blood show the lying way
through normality breaking free and crushing me
... and I give my word
sullied and dishonorable
my once shamefully regiven unwanted gift
my ticking breath and my pounding clock
I retake, redo, rethink and release
... and my hurried self let lose
as hopeless as forgotten memories
as hateful as recurrent dreams
of noise... static and gasps
of heavenly bartered lies
as a soft explosion
a sweetly gifted murderous tear
as calm as knives through flesh
and wild as roses... overpowered
and defeated...
I promise you this
love only last as long as your memory
never remember and always forget
and nothing good can ever last
and nothing bad can ever be
... without fingers and hands and arms and shoulders and chests and stomaches and entrails and groins and genitals and thighs and shins and feet and toes and a head controlling the mess, complete with ears and a mouth and eyes and lips and teeth and tongue and hair, strand after strand...
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