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The truth is... when I first saw you you didn't see me and I slipped quietly away mistaking you for another later I coarsely answered your entreaties offending your sensitivity unable to see that my mouth made senseless through intoxication would have opened to anyone if my mind would but allow it yet now when I wrap my arms around you onlookers always smile with unspoken sentiment written on their faces in languages I cannot read I fear not only that but your eyes and inclusive pronouns that fall occasionally unbidden from your lips and the fact that I know where you are in a room still you fear I might treat you as flippantly as my conversation |
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