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Give me a smilewith lips stretched wide as a rubber bandand in between a set of straight white teethdazzling like a mirror ball.
His name is called and there's a pause
just long enough to halt a war
tame timber wolves and trim their claws
hide diamonds in a secret drawer
I am the word juggler.I juggle the wordslike swords.I slice sensewith poetic license.
He swears on his mother's life he wasn't there.
And if he was there
he swears on his mother's life it wasn't him.
And if it was him
Don't move the goalposts.Leave them as they are.
Well, maybe this much wider.Now you've gone too far.
In a bit more. Stop.OK, that'll do.
I feel it, first as a stir,turning deep in the murky water.Surfaces up for air, a twitchon the lake in my head.A flip, and it disappears.
Fire under footfall.Fire over skies.
Fire on a matchstick.Fire in my eyes.
Fire holding hunger.Fire seeking wood.
Fire hiding danger.Fire feeling good.
It's five past three.Sixty-four eyes look at me.No. Sixty-two.Not Matthew.He hasn't learnt to read my face.He's got digital. A disgrace!
He's the Keepy-Uppy Kid.
I told a whopper, a fib, a lie.Slipped out of my mouth. It was slimy, sly.