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by P. Gottlieb

I'd rather heave half a brick

Than say 'I love you,' though I do

I'd rather crawl in a hole

Than call you 'darling,' though you are

I'd rather wrench off an arm

Than hug you, though it's what I long to do

I'd rather gather a posy of poison ivy

Than ask if you love me, though I want to

So if my hair doesn't stand on one end

It's because I never tease it

And if my heart isn't in my mouth

It's because it know it's place

And if I don't take a bite out of your ear

It's because gristle gripes my guts

And if you miss the message

Better get new glasses and read it twice.

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