God pity me whom

god pity me whom (god distinctly has)
the weightless svelte drifting sexual feather
of your shall i day body? follows
truly through a dribbling moan of jazz

whose arched occasional steep youth swallows.
curvingly the keenness of my hips;
or, your first twitch of crisp boy flesh dips
my height in a firm fragile stinging weather,

(breathless with sharp necessary lips) kid

female cracksman of the nifty, ruffian-rogue,
laughing body with wise breasts half-grown,
lisping flesh quick to thread the fattish drone
of I Want a Doll,
wispish-agile feet with slid
steps parting the tousle of saxophonic brogue.
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