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THE CRICKET CAGE
There is a cricket
in my bed, rubbing
her feet together. She
says, "this is no
amorphous love-song,
this is my nature. That
is why I rub
my feet together."
But I know, she
knows she's lying.
I can see it
in her cricket eyes, feel
the quaking in her
exoskeleton. I am
hypnotized by the movement
of her antenae. And I
her emperor, am poised
above her in my royal yellow
robe embroidered with
scarlet-eyed dragons, flavoring
my kisses with black pearls
until I hear her
rub her feet together again.
--Spare Change
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