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I’ll give you the, “root of suffering.” That
and the damn shag carpet will leave fresh rug burns

on your chin, your ass, over each knee, brat.
Sure, they’ll fade soon, from tart’s rosette to slattern’s

brown. The scabs will follow, crusty as lace.
And all around your precious throat, bruises,

both blue and yellow, will mark an embrace
that’ll match my fingertips. There aren’t sutras

for such love; but since all flesh aches, which leads
to such base urges, Buddha will know the itch

that we scratch. Under the shower steam flows
up our backs, soothing our cocaine nosebleeds,

letting heat soak into each scar, each stitch,
burning away all remorse, all sorrows.

The basis of Buddhism is a doctrine known as the Four Noble Truths. A loose interpretation of the First Truth is that all life is suffering, pain, and misery. The Second says that the root of this suffering is caused by cravings and desire … at that point I stopped reading.