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You see me all,
I am without,
But those within,
Aren't so devout.
They look so humble,
Act demure,
Makeup-less,
To look quite pure.
Preservatives,
Won't pass their lip.
Herbal tea
Is all they'll sip.
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But like Iago,
Drop a word...
Loud enough,
So it is heard,
By zealous Adams,
Yet, naive,
From apple-cheeked...
Fruitless Eve.
JMJ
Long-Skirts
10/20/04
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