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From between his teeth blooms a garden of desire, seemingly never-ending, as though he is poisoned by his unconditional love. Yet this garden does not die from the poison. It only grows.
She wants him, but her soul is leaking from her body.
She stands, and a spark of sadness bursts from her chest into all the crevices of her body. Tears vomit out of her soul and pour down her cheeks, but she does not bother wiping them away. Why attempt to dry an ocean?
