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I love you, but I hate every gift you've ever given me

From the hickeys on my thighs to the dinners on the beach at sunset

with the final rays of light bleeding out against the horizon

We met on a damp spring night with storm clouds swirling in the distance

Blocks of jenga tumbling over each other in the dim and noisy bar

A perfect precursor to falling onto your kitchen floor, and then your bed

Summer heat blazed through the city and melted me from the outside in

A different kind of burn consumed me from the undersides of my skin

pain mixing with pleasure, a hit of the one making the other even more exquisite

But as the climate cools, one door locking accidentally unlocks another

The jenga blocks tumble over again with a louder, harsher crash

and the sunshine closes in, constricting my throat until the edges of my vision blur

I hate you, but I love every gift you've ever given me

From the teeth marks on my ears to the sunrises over the coast

with the first rays of light bleeding into the skies I hope to reach

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