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I give God an erection

I like to be the type of person
that makes you think I'm always leaving
so you want to tell me what you're thinking.

And when I'm trapped
by hell and high waters
you compare me to your daughters,
the ones you haven't had yet.

Did I really leave you out in the cold?
I expected you to expect me to go,
but you knew where I wanted to stay.

And even with bruises all over me,
I can be alluring naked.
The bruises talk more than I do, sometimes.

Menial tasks, like shoveling the driveway
and washing the dishes, can now call back
to my hands, rough and cultured,
and next time you wish you had a date
last Friday, you can call me.

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