I Will Only Say This 3 Times

I. Rectangular heart. Swift guesses– I am to die for you. First
things are first. Next you know things I will be thanking you. Or
else something– The quotidian love Will send me glory. The
quotidian love Sends me haste. Spoken in risky form You’ve said
nothing. Save for great Scathing footnotes and your deadbeat
praise. Lies longer than the exhale you take when you breathe In
your formulated smoke I hope I die of YOUR cancer So that you will
have to live.