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Well, the best thing my heart does
is turn into a pussy. then into a cock. 
then back into a heart. except i’m a flunking
​magician so i don’t have any say over 

when it does that. the worst thing 
my heart does is tell me 
that there is something i can do to satisfy it 
that there’s such a thing as satiety (there isn’t) 
and if i just do a few small things, it will 
stop being hungry come on baby 
and on like that until i’m trying 
to pick the shattered glass out of my knee. 
until i’m paying a doctor to aspirate 
some man’s genetic material out 
of my body’s foulest mouth. the best thing 
my heart does is wallow salt-snot 
tears snuffled back down its valves and 
the best thing my heart does 
is scream, the glassbreaking note
 prima donna in floor-length silk 
pulling the air inside out. the best thing 
my heart does is eat you alive 
until you’re bones and silt in the gray water 
of his stomach every possible shudder 
discovered and the worst thing my heart does 
is eat itself and then the hunger grows double 
inside his sucked-out mouth and then 
he shits out the world.
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  • HOME
  • WINTER 2022 ISSUE
  • SUBMISSIONS
    • Submission Form
  • ABOUT
  • LITTLE BLACK BOOK
    • A NOTE FROM THE EDITORS
  • SHOP