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Magic, Tragic | David Olimpio
since you've been in my life there's been a lot of magic, bald man, and you are one lucky motherfucker the way I conduct a forced chest sit, endorse a compressed nose-in-armpit, source a bare ankle tongue lick I am the aortic leak I am the warm couch boa I am the slipped disc footnote I am the bloody-poop asterisk I am the open-pupiled groundhog aftertaste I am the sweat-dream court date I am the one-track tennis ball chase I am the trashcan tissue-hunter messmate we are nothing save for who we are, and who we find ourselves to be there is not a magic if there is not at once a tragic and a thing is only temporary because it is not permanent