blast from the past

sorting through some old poems and came across this one:

Marsellus takes care of me
but oh, Vincent, your dance
intrigues and enthralls me.
I peered at you over a
martini milkshake
an olive my cherry,
danger my heroin
my drug of choice.
I sniffed it straight to
my brain
and it killed me.
It was only after I died
that I felt I might actually
live.

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