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Click hereROXANNE
Her head is turned upon a neck of silicone;
Her eyes are sightless windows of mere glass.
Each orb-shaped pupil
Giving upon a vault so vast
How can the head contain it?
Is there no love can link us--I and thou?
Only this lustful moment? This fierce instant
Striking now
Its universal, its uneven blow?
There is no other link. Only this sliding
Second we share: this desperate edge of now.