I might puke
The cellular wobble of panic leaves sweat
on my brow
The pile of stones I swallowed
as you spoon-fed them to me
won't pass either way - I know this
My eyes are bone
Every muscle contracts around bitterness
bile that boils instead of blood
Heart draped in stillness, furious lungs
I am both peeled and armored, all Achilles - I know this
Love is a duet
Hate, a monumental solo act
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