mesentery.

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i get the same feeling looking
at you as i do dissecting cats
but it's ok
i know it just means
love.

i want to be more in love than
the man who first wrote about true love;

i want it to swallow my soul
and i don't want to mind;

i want it to kill me
because sometimes
i think i should be dead
and this would be a beautiful way to go—

dying for someone better
than myself, unselfish until
realized it's the most selfish
of selfish things,
to love & be loved.

it's sickening.

black-tar-lungs,
that kind of sickening.

emphysematic
paroxysms, that kind of sickening.

the shape of your lips,
in all their beauty:
that kind of

                        sickening.

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