I want to write a poem about your laughter
and the way it sucks the sun
from the sky to my skin.
I want to write of the thunder in your rib cage
and how it breaks me like the sea--

how it cleaves me in two--
I am burning orange and melting into you,
making maps of the freckles on your face--
but I am also boiling black and lava red,
breaking bones and bleeding rivers dry--
I am burning this paper to embers.

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