Firsts

None

Hands like putty, 
copies print ads on Sunday; 
knows not how to handle 
the female form. 

Throat frogged up 
from rapid lashing 
at a given target, 
unrhythmic. 

Shakes greater 
than the west coast. 

Body falling flatter 
than my emaciated 
frame can handle, 
like a barn cat 
slipping under most anything. 

Undiagnosed passion, 
unknowledgeable, 
yet growing in awareness.

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