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Shriveled
Craft me here a perfect lie
for I
am ravenous even for this.
Touch me here with hands
second hand
from touching the other;
sunk this low
I still crave
your eye's regard
because I am
not your slave
but the slave of love
and with you I practice
the Devotion
I'll need
for that other
who will truly deserve love mine.
I will avoid the infection of rage
for this will stymie my ultimate goal.
Many say leave
and I will
in my time
once I have perfected
this Heart's
Climb
from betrayal
to renewal
preparing itself
for the one who will
come after you
and I will see you there
arrears
left alone with
your own
shriveled lies
and,
I imagine
still crying
the cries
of your erstwhile
innocence.
poem
by
Lonnie Hicks
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