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Description
my love is less than proper;
it settles on rooftops and waits
for moonrise, gilded with wildness
like a feral cat.

it is bitter and lingers with sweetness
like over-steeped tea, and bites your
shoulders as thousands of gnats
or pinpricks of starlight.

when it detects your smell in a room
it grow bright green with hunger.

im hunting my love into the deepest
part of my body, where it crouches,
waiting.