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You pretty little scorpionon his nightstand. You mosquitoflying into our bedroom,carrying all your bloody threats.Your lack of sickness,your threat of sting.Imagine me a frog, long tongueslithering out to swallow youwhole. Imagine him, warm, asleepbeside me. While you waitfor his response, phone poisedin your hand like a rattlesnake. Mouthful of Forevers

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