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I catch your eye,
And hold it a second;
Then let it ping back into place.
A fat orb of jelly,
‘Tween finger and thumb —
It looks much better inside your face.

As a gesture in kind,
(Being thoughtful an’ all),
You roll mine back over to me.
They pop into their sockets
As neat as a pin —
A fine act of diplomacy.

You’ve been pinching my cheeks,
(I spy one in your pocket);
That’s terribly below the belt.
Like the tip of the iceberg,
A bone of contention —
If you’re swinging the lead I shall melt.

We circle each other;
I’ve got moths in my stomach.
‘Who’s wearing the trousers?’, I say.
Then we’re biting the bullet,
Pressing the flesh . . .
And you’ve taken my last breath away.

 

 

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