i thought i knew what love was,
dishing it out spoonfuls at a time,
overflowing the gravy bowl 
right onto the table.
it leaks through the tablecloth,
staining the wood brown black
turning into mold and rot
leaving a hole big enough
for a person to just slide right through
get your dress hiked up,
slide it right off and get fucked,
scrapes and scratches and scars,
and staring up through that hole
like you can see the stars through the ceiling
it's just nothingness out there, anyway
just empty abyss,
just keep your gravy in the pot,
let it burn to ash. 

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