Dance Chaste Poems

There is a pole dancer named Honey
never danced in the nude for money
	her modesty renown
	all around the small town
the kids all call her Easter Bunny...

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A poem writes my name.
I am trembling
on paper like salt.

Flowing like moon
on the black wound.
The lamb and the skull.

I know the saint
invented by masses.
You need...

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