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we thirst, Sahara arid chaos,
printed on my stomach, lavished
in my tongue. he's all i knew of water.

bitterness is copasetic. he claims
that i am strange; i am his mockery.
forsake four hits for forty; force lethargy.

but he, he will dream of me.
in our demise we polarize
and gleam and gleam and gleam.

drop me by the porchlight, and
desecrate my beauty: 'cause if it can
be ruined, maybe it was real once