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Rule #1: There are no rules.

Magnets

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Plasticine smiles and rubescent haircuts
Entheogenic traps of reluctant wake-ups
Candyland costumes and boys wearing make-ups

Buoyed by bouts of relaxed recitation
“Oscillate?” “No, I think ‘vacillation’.”
Gloamingtime breakfasts, forgotten vocations
Approaches of proximal family relations

I suppose what I’d say, if I had to be curt
is—Fucking magnets, how do they work?

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