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John Hughes Blues

Louisa Spaventa

The martyrous diamond

earrings transferred from

silky palm to silky palm.

Kissing across cake on a glass cloud.

Love at sixteen and virtuous sex.

No forced blow jobs.

No ripped or backwards panties.

No inebriated hot lakes.

Breath the temperature of icecream tulips

a pout like the folding of a velvet shirt.

No breath of eating young armadillos,

No bean caps on the teeth,

No sweaty upper lip.

There's a puddle of polka-dot

smelling up the floor

in the third stall.

Louisa Spaventa

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