Elemental What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I cannot say, nor who should

bear the blame, for there are those who never spoke my name unless to ask for something; getting by on skin and lies is fine at first, and then one needs much more than most, better than good; the cry of open faucets, splintered wood and blurry eyes, blank walls repeating, when? Before you said, I want to be like water, and take the shape of whatever I’m in, I thought you knew me; what is this desire if not a stone, a vacant room within? I have to go, you whispered, call me later— A world begun in ice should end in fire.

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