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  1. they pushed this on me, and i believed them because i wanted to believe in their body reality, their life… but, what they were doing is being something to me, defining themselves, not the concept, by putting it all into a form my body could understand — “go out and make yourself part of my world,” without wanting me to get into their bed… and, they were forced to act grown-up because i asked them like a child: what am i??? and, that brilliant teacher whom i never had could have, should have said, ‘let’s pretend to paint a painting!’ — and, i would have learned what a painter was and wasn’t. and, isn’t that the fun of friends, that you get to pretend together to be what you’d like to be?

    let’s pretend to write a poem — and, you start with something, some words which are shaped into whatever little you can remember about poetry… and, you play off each other and the poem shapes and changes like a dolphin in and out of water changing from fish to wave to animal sliding next to you. be simple. that’s really all you are anyway.

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