in the world that i see, there is an abundance of rust and mold. these nasties are something of a burn--blisters in the absence of what makes my heart feel good: to make your heart feel good.
like most elements outside of my window, i'll keep bending toward the light, crashing into screens and scraping at the soles of shoes and sandals. i'll still Love and Love and Love, no matter how soon or impossible an armageddon is.
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