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March 14, 2005 - A poem about Lust

Joy of Socks.

They, were so happy
layed out on my bed.
Toe to toe, and length
to length. Ribbed ones
pleased, to be with
partners, previously
lost to wash of fate.
Rejoiced in commune
of conditioned skin,
embracing friends and
kin. Now untangled from
the sorry state that they
were in. I watched couples
sort themselves - into
groupings, and those that
shouted, got down with
those, that didn’t care.
Fingering threads, like a
passion blinded creature
fumbling and pawing his
way, I watched this orgy
of togetherness and am
hereby ashamed to say -
that I, joined in.


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