stracciatella
i already have the pete rose rookie card.
to switchblade to...
the ones where things blow up
i love you more than anything that i could ever imagine. more than my hair color, more than the sound of babies crying, of dogs dying. even more than the thought of original sin itself. i am yours, eternally united through an invisible core of finely woven filth, that even god himself could never ever break.
of matches light cigarette fires