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Fester
I am a winged fester
Flying for a good weather
Perching to writhe and wither
All that roosted under:
Jeweled lover,
Tigress and panther,
Drunk and sober,
Tired of hunger.
Touch my hands, bold robber
And watch me pilfer
Your death a caper
Touch my hand, lewd dancer
And watch the macabre
Become my reaper
I am cursed to err
From all that I held nearer
Than my own fire and amber.
poem
by
Norman Santos
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