Face down in sand or
Facing the camera
It is no use
You boy
With the foreign name
I only see the face
Of that other boy
Also with little feet
And a foreign name
And hair that rasps against
lips after good night kisses
Proud owner of a
Little red shirt
Much like yours
But not as wet
For you I have pledged
The copper that tumbled
On to the counter
As I grabbed my
Skinny latte to go
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