What is and is not

What is love but deep ache in chest, an asphyxiation. What is love but frustration and gaps, so many gaps.

between thighs,




between words we dangle carelessly, like poison in the air.

What is love but a lie

we tell ourselves,

as if it were not the last battle in a frontier of empty, last soul beat in limp body, the most excruciating beautiful breathtaking humbling ultimatum. 

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