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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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