When I say, I love you.

I am also saying, Thank you for your fucking grace.

For what is love if not this unswung sword?

Everyday

I hone the blade myself,

release the hilt into your open palm,

point:

here, or

here, or

here.

Knowing you could, but won’t.

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1.

This is what you make me feel like: not hell, but heaven tipped on its head.

2.

Strangers told you I was the loveliest woman at the bar. You stroked my skin like silk, like a traded thing.

3.

I fainted at the second-to-last stop. Three seconds three minutes…

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remember the apple and the tree. good.

back straight. open chest. PROJECT.
I am the disappointing harvest.
LINE.
I AM THE DISAPPOINTING HARVEST.
good.

where are your props?
where are your props?
where are your props?
one empty pill bottle, one half-eaten meal, one undelivered apology text. good.

reprise the…

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