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i [don’t] know what to do with a good man ~

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HomeRomancei know what to do with a good man ~
Summary:
rambling after years of not writing

{iii} go fuck yourself: 

couldn’t pick 

the dead dove from 

between my teeth 

fast enough 

when you crooked

your long fingers

beneath my ribs; 

a timeless 

come hither 

{ii} too good to be true ~ 

knitted together, 

my joints knotted 

in prayer,

i wish 

the rust would 

flake

from between my knuckles

when i 

come [to you]

birthing my entrails

{i} alone with you ~ 

exhaling

the pressure of

being

of taking a 

breath 

in that space

which took 

more than it gave; 

[you]

[him]

amid sheets carrying 

the sweat 

of my self-worth

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    2 COMMENTS

    1. Hoi hoi Shadoe,
      Yesterday, on the date of birth of Johan Cruyff (the footballer), everyone named Johan, Johanna, or Johannes, was entitled to a free guided tour through the Johan Cruyff Arena in Amsterdam. Some 1.700 Johans showed up for the event.
      I was born in Amsterdam, like Johan and I used to know him. Like every other Amsterdammer knew their heroes.
      This is a/my reality.

      FIA, loved by all StarsRiters, seems to read you’ve caught him in the act.
      I have read this poem in an almost abstract way. As a series of alternative storylines.
      Or maybe you’ve written that you’ve caught him after all and I didn’t get it due to insufficient understanding of the English language. Very plausible.

      Whatever may be true, a poem which has the possibility for different interpretations is a winner to me.
      Welcome!
      Kind regards, Gus

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