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Perhaps the force of blood will no longer relegate
to this expanse of skin. The heart swollen in solar proportions,
heat rendered visible, a Jesus ray projection driven in
to your open canvas, piercing
that eagerly postured right nipple
pressed against my light
and ever growing heart. O,
the wormy workings of my carnal
heart, my sweetheart, my ever loving heart:

to resist a more fearful existence, to relinquish faith
in disaster scenarios, to simply
press my forehead against yours, to
say your name until my mouth goes
dry To begin.