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The way I remember it,
there was a fountain in your mouth
and I was promised eternity but
maybe I didn’t drink deep enough

I believe, even now
that I came from you
or you from me
and some jealous god
split us in twain
so we would die alone

heaven knows you stopped listening
to what I have to say, but
I would still take a rib from my chest
and plant it in the ground
on the chance you might grow from it
and love me again

myth, wesley king 

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