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"I want to kiss you. Like big, fat kisses. Or angels. Or stars. Or something. I don’t know. Love poems never make sense to me. Poets say things like “Your teeth are flowers.” or “Your eyes are miracles.” But you aren’t miracles. Or flowers. You are some sweet boy with a good smile and a shaky heart. Come kiss me. I’m in love with the miracle of your body beside my body."