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you love to stick your flag’s thin pole in her again and again.

you love to kill her heart songs again and again.

you love to delete her again and again.

you love to hate her again and again.

this piece is infected.

insert your skinny pole here, and disease will spread through your computer’s keyboard to your vulnerable fingertips and your heart will rival your mind in closeness.

your closed, frigid heart will crumble onto itself.

and, as your chest caves in, charlottesville craigslist women will rejoice in their new freedom to love openly and  expressively once again.

please, silly, puritanical censor, please flag her one more time.

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