Following your heart
is a brave act
that shouldn’t be brave. Should be as simple as
swallowing the tight knot of
fear in your throat
and cleansing your palate
of nerves. We shouldn’t have buds
in our tongues. It’d be easier
to not taste the bile
of expected regret
rising up your neck, scaling
its way to your sinuses,
filling your mind
with the smell
of what you’ve been
digesting.

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