new moons

How willingly we throw ourselves upon the flames. With exuberance, we swoon in painful anticipation of an eclipse of the heart. Once again, I lay down my essence for another to do what he wishes with it. Existing solely in a gleeful state of panicked frenzy. Nothing else pales in importance. What will he do next?

The beautiful, treacherous, grim trenches of new love. I am a faithful soldier standing on a dead mine. The doe eyed damsel on the frontline. I welcome your protestations and your hesitations. I pull to and fro like the tides to your moon. I will follow your feet in this ill-advised dance we do. I love the risk and the darkness and the blinding, blinding light.

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