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1 minute read
Books Back
Kim O'Leary
Why thank you for this reddish-brown hairy stocking
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Such a benign token of our friendship. You must trust that I will wear it, you know how cold my little toes can get!
When thoughts of you come mustering in the mould
I swagger alongside the oath of denial. Turn on the lamp and read beside me And churn and churn until I think of something else.
Poor things are better than you
Ah yes I recall now your stupidness and buffoonery. Cyclamens are cheap and grow in staggering, neighbouring, fourishing gardens
I’m saying that you are unoriginal.