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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #791434 |
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Tactile Prowess With kids milling around, I'm struck by thoughts of you like an oncoming truck, and dazed, both delirious and rattled by pangs of what-if with which I'm saddled and mounted and ridden like a carnival pony 'til the party moves on and I don't feel phony - just used, abandoned, and rather out of touch - not that tactile prowess counts ...much.
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