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words
I
surgeon or sculptor.
do my words form the scalpel
that i cut out your heart with?
or do they chip away at marble blocks
the shards falling to the floor
bursting as the beauty trapped inside
is revealed to the world?
II
i was wrong.
i am no surgeon nor sculptor.
i am a masochist:
i cut my heart out
and serve it to you
on a silver platter
gilded with beautiful words
and hope that you will take it
for what it is
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