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it wasn't your curled lips

or your musky sweet perfume


it wasn't your dimpled cheek
or your dashing how-are-yous
it was your hand folded in a fist
and the twenty-two inches between
it was your unwavering jaw
and a lack of you and me
to tell you the truth
to speak without lying
it was not so much the fact of you
as it was your not trying

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