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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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