Mess

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Beyond
the scope of reality
would be a love
that can never 
grow, for 
not knowing 
me,
your dream
girl.
A girl
distorted
under streams
of crowds.
You are a perfect
specimen
picked apart
my media tenses
and nestled
under my arms
in imagination.
Taking a chance on me
would certainty
be a chance
or outlandish test,
but you seem
perfect to cast it out.

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