I’m Trying to Figure Out How to Not Become Wildfire

Maybe we are
“Be all;
End all”.
Maybe I’m waiting
to look at you one day
say:
“You 
are so so good to me,
babe.
Too good to me,
love.”
And I know one day
this thing we’ve built up,
we’ve dreamed up
faces the prospect
that it,
that us
like all other things,
will burn up
under my touch.

I will kiss the ashes,
babe.
It was—-
We were
too too good,
love.

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