Poetic lice inside
your head and heart
and eye, get
everywhere.
Every sum
or solo part.
Every topic,
every care
or interaction way
too strong, in
every thought that
you knew all along,
but since disproved
in fact. In all your
shirts and all your
hats, and all your
underclothes and
things.
In other peoples'
too, plus wings.
Wherever you think
to look, they're there.
You don't know why this
urge infests, but no one needs
to know some things
Just scratch where bit and itchy
stings! On any surface nature
blest, or artifice made fit
to bring.
You have a license,
shouldn't you? You left it
in some other('s) pants,
perchance you'll find
it all along was
in
your hand(s). Well, stretch
those hands and take
a chance. Reach
fingers out and dig
in deep
to satisfy. It is
allowed, to find and
keep such souvenirs
as you create
so sly
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