The Ecphorizer
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It was your splendor in the grass that left me with an itching neck. My legs are scratched in hack and front; I'm picking weed seeds from my ears. And when you ask it's your good luck if I agree with you to play. When next you ask if there's no bed the most I'll give to you is a kiss. ![]() Olivia Anderson lives and poetizes in Silicon Valley. More Articles by Olivia Anderson |
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