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i [don’t] know what to do with a good man ~

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Summary:
rambling after years of not writing

{iii} go fuck yourself: 

couldn’t pick 

the dead dove from 

between my teeth 

fast enough 

when you crooked

your long fingers

beneath my ribs; 

a timeless 

come hither 

{ii} too good to be true ~ 

knitted together, 

my joints knotted 

in prayer,

i wish 

the rust would 

flake

from between my knuckles

when i 

come [to you]

birthing my entrails

{i} alone with you ~ 

exhaling

the pressure of

being

of taking a 

breath 

in that space

which took 

more than it gave; 

[you]

[him]

amid sheets carrying 

the sweat 

of my self-worth

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