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I. she could be anyone, in any crowd, in any room, in any hall or house between heaven and hell.  she could come sheathed in a dress, or jeans, or overalls, armored in sweatpants, or fishnets, or lace. she could come dressed in any way, in flames, or in a dream, or like a drop in the ocean; like snowfall; silent.
     
II. i’d hold her like keys between knotted fists. i’d hold her like a sword, like a dagger. i’d hold her close to my heart, scarred but tender; unafraid to bleed.

i think there is no better feeling than a gun beneath your pillow. i think there is no better feeling than her lips and how they’d cock against my skin. and so terribly and so badly, I desperately want her to shoot.

III. what would it be like to kiss you? to feel tenderness in the way our mouths connect, like snowflakes melting against each other, like candle wax, dribbling down. the heat of you and me, you and I, me and you is hot cocoa in my belly, and the twinkles in your eyes are marshmallows bobbing. the sweetness coats my tongues, sticky between my teeth, devouring every urge I have ever felt to taste anyone, no anything, but you.

IIIV. wherever she, her, you is, I will remain. starving., but patient, for something worth waiting for.

SHE  // d.s. 
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