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■ A wound that breathes Contact |
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I’ll have to live with you in my mind for a while
like a man condemned to death with a man condemned to life, waiting for each other to lose our minds and trade places—so you could slip into my death and I could taste your life. only it won’t happen. I accept my leaving, my disappearance, I accept the greatest loneliness in the world, as if your tower were taller than the prison yard, taller than an eclipse, and I will always stand in darkness, in your shadow. I accept the noise in my knees, that buzzing before pain, before the legs are cut away. I accept the whip of veins that throws me down when my eyelids claw desperately at the earth— not a grave, not a bunker, only a place where you can piss a tear without it being seen, a place where you lay down your soul before the guillotine, a place through which you can see hell as it turns its gaze on you.
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