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Notes About His Hands, Part 4

Robyn Art

(Elegy for his Hands)

It was late, I was drunk, you were warm
to my hand, I would say, please
don’t leave, touch me there, but
you never

I was late, you were drunk, it was warm
to my hand, I would want, just
to please, you were there, but
I never

I was warm, you were late, it was drunk
to my touch, I was just
late to want, but I would
leave you never

Robyn Art

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