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Sunday, April 2, 2017

Unrequited Love

Unrequited Love
My Helen of Brooklyn
Kiss me, she would not,
Unless I had brushed
My repugnant teeth.

My Helen of Brooklyn
Hold me, she would not,
Unless her spendthrift ways
Her discretionary income had eclipsed.

My Helen of Brooklyn
Her toes I would kiss and tongue,
But a towel, my feet,
After a long bath, dried,
Would not touch.

My Helen of Brooklyn
Her natural woman's scent
My nose southly glued to was,
But her southerly lapping was timed
By the reluctant to-and-fros,
And only after a long shower.

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