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why do you love
a frantic fluff butt
lost beneath
a shadowy boudoir

she screams red
murder and
lashes at my neck

I do not understand
that sordid cat
or your house plants
and I know in your window
the black and blue flower
dreams of blood

but never mind all that
I'll just lean back and
look gorgeous

and eat chocolate

Graham, Donna, and David Fox


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