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February 27, 2011
I want to crawl around in your brain, pulling strings and tying knots. I want to poke, poke, poke it full of needles. Sew your thoughts shut with rainbow thread. (It's rainbow because you need more color in your life, you know.)

I want to taste you. Taste you. Taste the flavor of that soul you keep hidden so well. I want to tear open your chest and lick it--bright, slippery, as hard to catch as a soap bubble. You.

I want to bury you beneath yellow petals so even while you rot, you will smell like flowers.