I can imagine hating you,
hating the tilt of your eyebrows
the curve of your smile.

I can imagine hating the sharpness of your teeth
like knives, like flint.
I could hate you for being insecure,
for being scared and for cowering in the dark
while I fought the shadows for you.
For you, while you were lost in yourself
like a ghost.

You are the same and I could hate you for it.
I could hate you the way 
the rescued can hate their saviours,
the way a creator hates his creations.
I could hate you with a passion so fierce 
it would seem like love.

I could tear you apart and tell you
I love you while I do it.
You would taste blood on my lips
as I kissed you
and you would ask
Why? Why?
and I'd reply

Because love can be fire and claws and hunger,
Because it can be a forest fire and a hurricane all rolled into one,
Because it can destroy you and build you back up from the ashes
again and again and again.

In the end, love is a lot like hate.

So yes, I could hate you
and yet...

 I can imagine…


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