love poems, you will
never want to read them
again after he is gone and
no one wants to hear you
pining over perfect somethings:
shoulders or the curves
of lips or arc of necks
beneath sheets in the
morning, so I don't write odes to these things.
you can find them anywhere. this
is a new and revolutionary sort of
love and I will not
write you another word about it now.
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