Before The Vultures Come

I wake up on our wedding day to a scream (from the ones I had buried alive)—perhaps you can explain to me why they never understand that screams use air up faster—though, you always were more patient with corpses, which I guess is why I love you (it sets me at ease with the way my flesh is a bit more rancid than yesterday); still, as I walk down my aisle of bones, I cannot help but take pleasure in …

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