The World Revolves Around Her
M
Mark Heathcote
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Poking—proverbial stick
I browse beelike in her hive
A honeycomb of aspic
That's only-exposed to jive.
There I, languidly flutter
Weak at the knees—I muster
My strength observes its nature
A self-defoliator.
… Tell-her again, I love-her
A flower pink as fuchsia
The world revolves around her
Now I've learnt to Cha-cha-cha.
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