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I salute you
My soldier boy,
I flush;
this is a painful drought of affection
draining the coils of my veins to dried stalks
creating ridges in their stern capsules
threatening to brim their blood
in stricken sails,
overboard
My soldier boy,
if this is the height of my life
if these years are my jubilation
i can say rather megalomaniacally,
I am robbed--
annulled
My soldier boy,
love does equate to the sensation of life
but if read in context, the similarities hold bedeviled hands in likeness
they reticulate, and with each brandish jerk of the knot
There’s a little less faith in between our wearied walls
My soldier boy,
show me your dryad-pixie nymphos
and I’ll show you the billowed lines of my wrists
Strike the containment of my hull
I salute you, my dear soldier boy
I’ll breathe in the asthmatic intervals
of your ashen words
Please,
taste mine
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