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Aug 2010
A predictable motion,
my body into yours.
It's beautiful,
in it's circus act
kind of way.
The way you wince,
so slightly,
and even then,
only for a second.
The way you grasp,
my hand or my wrist,
and lean into me,
when your time
As if you were afraid.
Standing on the cliff,
looking down,
and shaking with
Hold onto me,
I will not let go.
Roll into me,
like waves on your
like static lines
on our Television.
Gently, ever so gently,
I'll loosen my grip,
and you will loosen yours.
We will plunge together.
But we will not let go.
Written by
Paul Glottaman
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