What’s The Point?

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What is a biscuit made, without you  to taste it?

Sheets changed without you to loll in their fresh glory?

What is a dance in the kitchen

Without you to tease me.. please me.

A walk in the woods

How is it made good?

Tell me this. Tell me more.

I beg. I implore.

I cannot see the point without you.

Lots of dark clouds. No blue.

But sometimes when I stop and taste the soup

Smell the candle burning

I stop yearning.

(c) Slumpless

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