sometimes when we talk I want you to scream with me
face to face, mouth to palm, skin to skin, corpses wrapped in tongues
a duellogue of warring dialects at the top of my lungs

sometimes when we make love I want you to break me
so that we dissolve into mad laughter and racking tears
so that all of our parts break apart like wet sandcastles

sometimes when we breathe I want you to choke me
just a little more than you do every other day
but like all ledge-skirters I fear the fall will be too much.

I spend my days finger-knitting bungee cords so I can spend my nights jumping off cliffs
just
like
these.

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