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We can stick anything into the fogand make it look like a ghostbut tonightlet us not become tragedies.We are not funeral homeswith propane tanks in our windows,lookin’ like cemeteries.Cemeteries are just the Earth’s way of not letting go.Let go.Tonightlet’s turn our silly wrists so far backwardsthe razor blades in our pencil tipscan’t get a good angle on all that beauty inside.Step into thiswith your airplane parts.Move forwardand repeat after me with your heart:“I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hated myself