You shook and shared in countless open nights
with Frappuccino-scented microphone
your tales of pulled’ pork and southern lights
and hidden canyons viewed with me alone.
I loved your gently crooked cheek.
It brought more joy than words could ever make.
I loved that from the depths I heard you speak
When I from surgeon’s slumber did awake.
Was it my form that made you turn and seek
for solace in your nether’s mirrored twin?
Was love for you too low and far too weak
To counteract my body’s hidden sin?
My bear is gone and I am all alone
I slip back to the shade where I am known.
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