lusciousness and lasciviousness
hand and hand and hand in the land
of rolling muddled R's and L's
tethered together and sliding past
into the incomprehensible
(and he doesn't even know I'm writing poems about him
and he will never know that I have written poems about him)
sliding past into the meaningless abyss of exquisite sensibilities
sensitivities divined by their squirrelley senility
riding this riding this riding this
wave of imperfection with a determination heretofore
unknown in this swimming cavity inside my brimming chest
I am bursting with recognition, requisitions
I say all of this
yet I do not have the words
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