Tomorrow, a flirting innocent, slips a string
around a toe— tugging, enticing, implying
realization is just past that task. Just there!
Yesterday, an old neuter, ask questions,
prods for justification, cast doubts.
But occasionally, the prods, the tugs relent;
my heart races with the pleasure of strange time,
Now ,when the sweet smells of oil and radiant heat,
even that of chlorinated water, delight and paint
a lazy smile.
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