i. I want to fuck you like poetry, I want to scrawl your name with my tongue between your shoulder blades, taste your salt. I am salt, I looked back and saw the ruins, saw the flames, I am pure now. Waste not want not, I want you to lay waste on this body. Deconstruct what I built for you.

ii. I begged, “Please please let the sun still set tomorrow and let whatever light she’s got bursting out the cracks between her teeth stay put,” but she walks out of every dream without looking back or holding the door. You’ve gotta suffocate the flames, they say, wet blankets on mouths as you army-crawl to open air. I’m so used to suffocating, and what am I to do without the warmth of you charring my flesh, wrecking this home and for me to martyr myself in the flames.

iii. This is an open letter to the first girl’s third try, god bless whatever insurance you bought yourself. I wanna know if she still collects bones, or if she’s a flesh monster like me now. Failure’s a best bet, and I need more scars to get new skin, so I cry out for her grip in my sleep. I am weightless and the world runs through me.

iv. I don’t expect too much these days but I want to walk on the beach and hold your hand because you are beautiful and we are here together right now.


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