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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Makeshift Home
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My suit, my tie, my beautiful noose
My formaldehyde bath, my house under the spruce
My preacher, my soothe sayer, my dear loving muse
My body, my shell, it's outlived its use
Of flesh and blood, muscle and bone
Burn and scorch to ash from stone
Wax is the body that sleeps alone
Under the nails I now call home.
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