On Getting Dressed
M
Mark Heathcote
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You kissed me once for luck
And twice again for joy,
We'd lavers up a sweat
Later we'd reemploy.
If, things didn't get smaller
Like a Tinkertoy,
Oh, if only getting dressed
Weren't such, a killjoy?
You'd of kissed me thrice
I'd, of been knock kneed
And only then too tired…
To be redeployed.
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