i cannot give you
a portion
of who i am
as we set forth
upon these turbulent waves
there is no part of me
sequestered away
if you cannot handle
everything
good
bad
indifferent
the spectre of forever
plays heartily
in every subtle movement
like a catfish
settled into the sediment
of the river bottom
hidden into perpetuity
with no half measures
i am yours
Yes the whiskers…this will be one of those poems so lovely to be read to…
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The real catfish
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I have the whiskers and everything
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Beautiful!!
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thank you.
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Pleasure
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