Sate me with raison cakes
Succour me with apricots
For I am afflicted with love...
Son 2:5-6
What a fine line there is between desire and dysfunction! There is nothing so close to the tipping point between sanity and madness. Am I sane; am I mad? Am I willingly deceived? How exploitative, how irrational my own biology in the mad passion of love? Nothing can drive a person to the edge like the onslaught of chemical obsession. And nothing can rip appart the foundations of the world like the failure of love. That line stretches out until it snaps. And the vulnerable die at the point of paralysis. At the point of being missed. At the moment of sinking into the earth unseen, unknown. I dissipate and lose substance. I lose breath and vanish.
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