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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- please
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I turned my head hard to the right. There is still some stiffness there. I could complain about my body forever, till hell freezes over.
My tan turns sour and I feel all sucked up. There may not be a reason for being here or you there. My tan is an obsessive thing. It exists on my arms from elbow to tip of fingers. On my rosy cheeks of face, not buttock/s.
Please, would you be my essential venue?
Please.
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