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Battle of Love and Hate
Same war, new stanza.
The battle is not outdoors. It is interior — two hungers sharing a ribcage, one calling itself virtue, one calling itself truth.
Hate feeds on bile. Love feeds on proximity. Both can destroy the room if left unattended.
Shield metaphors are declined. What works is naming the target before the blade picks it for you.
Debris is shared property.
The ribcage still hosts both.
JV · Dark Heart Labs