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- Non-Erotic Poetry
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she turns her head-
mane flecked silver
and quizical look-
kick my shoes off
and pull up my shirt
belly
scratcher-
used to my own,
sweet smile unlearns me
pat that center-
the most remote touch
children and rocky roads-
faint stars cut thru
pastel moonclouds
and the station plays
allnight-
daylight
finds
us sleeping.
yawn.
yawn.
yawn.
sleepy again.
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