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Metaphysical Love Song


by P.R. Mercado


I rot before you asking to be loved
before my bones become only stones
and my hair adorns only the vanity of worms. 
Will you love a piece of shit like me?
I do not mean this in a Christian sense.
I demand violent lustfulness,
with burning sensations that 
are tiny visions of hell. 
I demand that the weakness of my body
be proven upon the altar of my bed,
and you shame me by viewing
the irrefutable honesty of my nakedness. 
I demand that we fuck and have no children,
so that it is a sin,
and prove your love to me, 
as I will prove my love to you,
by swearing that after all of this is gone,
we find each other, aflame, in damnation. 
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