But he definitely has feet.
He sticks them on me,
Cold as death,
In the nighttime of my life.
So I try to oonch up a bit
And angle around counter clockwise
To get away from him.
But he oonches, too,
And gooses me
Just as I'm drifting off again.
And so we dance,
Time and I,
Me to forget,
Him to remind me.
And I'd be relieved,
If he only stepped on my toes,
But that's the least of my worries.
-jenn
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