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Coming home is like being drunk on christmas by Sallie Fullerton

I wanted the nog despite its less lovely qualities.

Really I was drunk and unpretty

never knew how to follow this by that.

I had a posture that required fat and oil

that required grimace, a towel-lick,

thick syrup and lite-pollution –

it was a full body job.

This made me sweet –

a never-ending throat, a linchpin gut –

you could fill me and fill me –

Christmas morning, happy, red

and giving. Be merry,

be blessed – I adore you

and your smart jacket

your kind wishes

your candle skin.

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