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  • Sara Solano

I Hope You Burn

You are the stench

of gasoline

as I open the tank.

Crawling through the vents

a nauseating feeling

gradually takes over

and I find myself gasping

for air, to no avail.

You remain intertwined

with the atmosphere,

spilling your name in puddles

leaving holographic trails.

Your sickening smell

of danger follows me,

you’re lucky I resist the urge

to light us both on fire.

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