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Written by: Barry Tebb | Biography
 You always disrupt me;

When I ring you for comfort

You wing me, send my

Pudding of a mind

A-splatter on the wall.
You chase me to bed even, Passionately, not-yourself-at-all, You bawl your lewd reminders Down aching avenues of dreams To shudder me awake.
And then at last you’ll fake Your promises and take Some simpler way, battening On the eggs you’ll hatch Warmly some tea-cosy day.
All this, you’ll say, was Merely adolescence, not The real unpoked you, Tittupping in high heels And cellophaned to view.

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