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(When she laughed: she lifted her chin and pushed her neck into her shoulders: and so up through her teeth)
..also because of the old inferiority complex:
I don't trust the amazement of others: addressed to me:
perhaps appreciation would sound better: because somehow I don't believe
(Yes: as if she was addressing her "hee hee" flirtatiously a little to the sky)
I don't believe in its selflessness - I do all this because I like to be amazed:
that is the most important word in art - amazement -
and no one else's work: only mine: can provide me with such a complex degree of sparkling amazement.
She handed me her ice cream and pulled up her sweater:
just above the edge of her white panties I read: "Enamoured fireflies caused midnight noon."
That's mine. I was amazed