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The Magic Mouths Make

Luminous liminal space

Of language

Where I say something and wait

In the in between to see

If you will waltz with me

To see if you know the game

Where we devolve into no meaning

Just a thick soup of text

Context pretext

Lust and thick tongues

All mixed up and

The butter sounds like my heart

The bread is eating bread

The wagging words of children

Playing in and with the world

Skirting along dress hems in corn fields

Give me back my body

Young man

I smell you in the doorway

I miss you when you stop talking.


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