Purse your lips,
I have a gift,
Open wide and savor sips,
A hurried propagation slips,
Through the gaps,
Between your hips

Describe the rhythm,
By your frown,
Moving face to face,
And down a path of absolution,
Keeping pace with dead-eyed dreams,
Forming tracks amongst contusions

Now it breathes a solemn sigh,
Merely an affront to cry,
Senselessly for all the world,
Out it shies, and "it's a girl",
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