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OBSIDIAN

36 Fahrenheit
Zero Four Thirty-Three
Hair tousled as if by a lover
I’ve forgotten now
the touch
of whiskers on my ass
Hands thirstily pumping
my long-neglected well

Obsidian-shiny
the parking lot gleams
Chariots sleep
as I weep
for Better
(a man
than has yet to reach
for me)

Throbbing
Thrusting
I’ll not settle now
for Dreams
borne of lack of a compass

One ninety-two a gallon
for an elixir
Fleeing for Safety
Finding No One

c2016 GC Cameron

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