I Envy This Pen
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I envy this pen,
It writes and then hangs
Between the soft lips
Takes a bite of the teeth
Goes back to writing
Touches the silky hairs
And back on paper to dance
Goes again to touch the long neck
This naughty pen
Rolls over the fingers
Stays firmly with the thumb
I care less about what it writes
I envy the way it remains
Close to body and heart.
Bu şiiri puanla
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