Oh, friends—I most love who you become when there are cards in your hands. How limitless our love for one another can be with our guards down. When the first bit of shit talk rattles the chest and then gives permission for more, and more, and more until the talking of shit, too, is a type of romance. Anyone worthy of being taken down is worthy of hearing all of the ways they are being taken down. I meet my enemies with silence and my friends with a symphony of insults, or jokes that cut just deep enough for people to see them for a short burst of time but not so deep as to leave a scar.
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