THIS POET CANNOT NOT THINK ABOUT IT

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The Text and the Sound

/You text me /complica/ted ditties / about a /bummer / struggle./

You text me / how impact / play rarely / forks. Does it  / ever hurt? / Ticking

/ for what it’s / worth? By effect,/ the common /denomin/ator / finds it / 

/ strange. Sea, the / good kind of  / pain embrac/es complex/ity, / ravages / 

sorries. I / ruined / this perfect / beautiful / thing for us, / but it was

/ never / perfect. / Whisper: does / it ever / hurt? Yes, or / if it doesn’t

/ take it back. / What’s the good / kind of pain? / Perhaps our / favourite / 

place to be. / I can be / free just for / you like a / sign waves / It was, / 

has been, / and still is / scary to / love again. / Was it / worth it?

/ You don’t have / to exter/ nalize / your good cock. / Endless / suffering

/ opens to / endless poss / ibility, / and the un / fathomable / improv-

/ improbab / ility / of being / here, now, alive, / and knowing / each other,

/ at this / exact moment. / Soft seduct/ion makes us /heavy / makes us/ 

 irre/levant rot. / You text me / that you came / by to swim, / but I / 

wasn’t here, / now, nor / anywhere. / Paranoid / collisions. / You text me  

/ beautiful  / sequences / like an / equation / but that runs / backwards / 

and forwards. / At the / time, it looked / like a loop, / morbius / strip, or / 

boomerang / to me, / about you. / You text me / really good / ideas / 

about a / complica/ted plan./ Just quit / texting how / my pussy

sounds like / riddled suss. / Text me: / I like / panting at / your ear:

it’s ille/gal to boil / lobsters / alive. I’d / boil you, / just apply / 

some heat. / Needs not / apply. / I’m not go / ing anywhere. / Except to

/ our darling / place that /thrashes,/ elicits, / and detours / construction.