these days these nights i don't sleep, i carve GLORY GLORY into sheets of plastic and when the sun starts to rise i take to the porch with my gym shorts and messy hair and smoke cigarettes for whoever won't walk by. the hours slip & the blade slips, the powder in piles & piles & i lay on the wooden floor bleeding out irreproachable. this vigil: if
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i like that word, "honeythick"
yeah.
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yes.
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♥.
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