can you live on the knife edge?
dance upon the razor?
or do your feet bleed at the thought?
when hands wander instead of eyes,
do you still recoil?
do you still wince at a coup d'oeil?
when will you relax?
when will the wax take over for your bones?
Does that razor cut through the wax?
make forms that jog your memory?
or does it introduce you to newness
and make you
giggle?
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