We watch videos of botfly extractions in underwear so old it may disintegrate at any moment

and my heart is full to bursting

We paint gender-fluid intercourse in pink loop-de-loops across a sky that just aches to be appreciated

and my heart is full to bursting

We compare nipple sizes and decide it is all right and God is good to give us nipples of any size at all

and my heart is full to bursting

We smell raspberry flavored beer on the breeze somehow when we walk out of the hospital where your mother rots

and my heart is full to bursting

We talk about girls until the metaphors get really mixed and unclear and then we just talk about metaphors

and my heart is full to bursting

We sit side by side on your porch in every single moment of human existence in some backwoods multiverse summer of the mind

and my heart is full to bursting

We write lists of things we are grateful for with “that it is easy to think of things I am grateful for” at the bottom of each

and my heart is full to bursting

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