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you taught me love

can spoil like fruit.

i know that love is salt

over an open wound

a knife threatening

a throat, a gun to a temple

and i thank you for these revelations

for placing salve over my young

eyes and teaching me the warm

embrace of hellfire, reminding me

that blue is just as warm as red

somehow you're holding

the matches and hiding

behind the holy water

all at once

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