Humbled

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Every one knows shadows
The poets curse
Long dark, pools of things
Inhabited by memory and forgetfulness
Scads of shadow pods
Forgiveness lives outside that ink

Lust and fury
Liberation from mirth
Hair pulling
Thigh slapping
Clichés of long things
Intruding
Long, throbbing, fleshy
Blue knobbed things

Paint both our faces
Then use mine
For a rubbing post
My pale, cast silhouette

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