Monday, April 9

Peonies

I will not a love poem write
but love only myself and kill others!
love poems, thought well & them!
un welcomed’s I cast and ‘ccuse
those I thought I loved I and
suffer for it at work in the morning

since I jarred myself out of that affected
adoration; a difficult struggle ‘pon
the right side (bigger) of my heart—
clocking in two narf minutes—
the rest disinfected and now free to
free to too free to romance thee

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