Your legs,
The round breasts,
And all the rest
Put me to a test.
Maybe I've misjudged
What I got to dodge
Or I've got miscarried
And wanted us to get married.
But read on, don't stop
And drink from the cup.
I wish to see your face, creep
And take the backspace ship.
Your atoned spirit
I'd like to meet it
To say something strange
About what's out of range.
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