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Aug 2020
I know that
you can never love me.

But even so,
the glove of evening
slides off as you approach.

So many have tried
this comb - and now you,
the man on the horse.

My lips starve to feel
more than the air
around the sound of your name.
Revision of a poem from 2001
Evan Stephens
Written by
Evan Stephens  44/M/DC
(44/M/DC)   
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