Pornographic valentineJoni Wallace
Darling, my zero star, my crossed-out, when were you gone? Once upon I caught you, a shadow bruise, a bled tattoo, love, love, Love, the weather was clear, we were drinking. Now love’s an engine that drags the dark, a smut-stained arpeggio, the scar-slit moon in its velvet curtain of ether. Past the stations, past the platforms, mercy mirrors me a kiss, a tongueless o, part thirst, part extinction.
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