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Buffet Lunch MAG
  You fed me your breath – we both wanted more
  I ate your ghost, burned your soul to the quick
  All that you were, bitten down to the core
  Greed, greed, greed, of course I made myself sick
  Of You! My intestines loved to bursting,
  Bed bound, sheets wrapped fast around us kept
  But you’d wake me, when my bed sores
  started hurting,
  Out from dreams which for only myself I slept
  What we were doing: overindulging
  You to I, I – you, both emptied from us
  Poison drunk, my own feet no longer holding
  Our worst trait, an implicit consensus
  Betraying ourselves to not be lonely
  I cannot stand and you cannot hold me

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