Teetering dumb-tumbling, a lady in waiting comes to me

As a man in heat

Saddled by a bridal bit by chomps bled so pale over the chaps slapping sticks to spark stuck a step behind

Tweet till dumb and needles deep

Quarantine of us now:

we always want to do it again. To pretend, we dip in again

Wavering for waves to be

Teetering dumb-tumble weeds

Quivering for the quills to be sent by pork for which we pine, a surety we’re still a step behind


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