I need oxygen; I need warmth. I'm toothless - my mouth a bubbling lens of salt water. My bored lover garbles. Her paper-bone arms ENGULF ME ETERNALLY. I'm not afraid. Her tired eyes warm me like the sun; her bodily sounds ring like bells; her vagina drains my infection, cutting my voice box out. The sticky smell of citrus. Her BOREDOM IS A FORM OF ANGER. From high above the moon she hurls me, flinging out my revolting ceremony. All matter is energy. We imagine ourselves.
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