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The Collector

I walk the city streets
Hunting for beauty.
I made a deal with the devil
And I can have all I see.
My net stretches wide,
Inescapable.
I am the collector,
And I am collecting.

Pretty.
Stuck. Sticky, sticky.
Lined up for me.

Auburn hair it tumbles,
Rolling on like fields.
A black nape it beckons and begs
To belong in my hands.

Pretty.
Stuck. Sticky, sticky.
Lined up for me.

"Bring them all to me by 12,
And the total should divide by 2.
Keep desire on a short leash,
Else I'm coming back for you."

I'm the collector...

Spring stems pushed into plimsolls
On a player field.
I'm cherry picking. finger-licking.
I grab a handful.

Pretty.
Stuck. Sticky, sticky.
Lined up for me.

"Bring them all to me by 12,
And the total should divide by 2.
Keep desire on a short leash,
Else I'm coming back for you."

"Count them off,
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11."

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Polaroids of Guilty Hands