I'm rather infuriated at the moment, about something I don't want to explain here, so I'm going to be more productive and post a poem that I finished today-- it's a sonnet, which was a bitch to write in iambic pentameter, and it was inspired by Mercutio's line that dreams are "the children of an idle brain," which got stuck in my head because one
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maybe that's why i love you, jew.
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