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Grooms
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Aisha
Aisha, do not focus on the ring.
Energy, romance racing through your jeans.
And down the hall, parents wishing they were dead
because someone somewhere put a promise in your head.
'Does it feel alright? How does it feel?'
Nailed to the floor.
Your ponytail goes on for days.
Forevermore, you're lacerated, un-abstained.
Activity is enough
when activity is in love.
'Does it feel alright? How does it feel?'
These are my primitive feelings on sophisticated dealings
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