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I can see them running
Like a hot fudge smiley sprint race
Repelling strawberry, banana, and peach
I pressed my face upon it
And cleaved to the lens
While dog's tongue dried the mess
My plastic lip wrap horizon
My heat lamp is sun
My touch is an impression
It's not enough,
So they must start to run
Touch is adjusting my contour
Hear to feel a wall's rhythmic drone
Smell to breathe my own air
Rationalizing love
Understanding touch
Memorizing a poem
About life
When lies expose
Truth they reveal
I'm not alone
I'm sealed