Why do we love when we know we should run,
leaving fortifications in our wake to protect our soft underbellies?
Why do our hearts gravitate towards pain
like suicidal moths to the incredibly obvious death-by-campfire result
of flying too closely to the searing hot energy of affection, devotion and desire?
Shall we refrain, starving the flame?
Shall we sustain, feeding the same
fire that burns...
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