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I am a finger puppet.
He plays me in a mime.

Upon a sheeted stage we lie,
(about all kinds of things).

A marionette,
If words tug strings.


love's tempestvaginismusdamaging relationshipsshort poem

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Mon 26th Apr 2021 18:43

Thank you for your comment Nigel ?
I'll take that as another vote for extending the poem.

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Nigel Astell

Mon 26th Apr 2021 01:21

In this Cabaret a stage is set
if you add more lines
each one yet another lie
tugging at many many strings.

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Sun 25th Apr 2021 17:18

Thanks for commenting Adam ?

Since you say that it does make me ponder to think about what might be added and how it might be done, the title certainly allows for quite a few extra threads to be woven in. One of the features of this poem is the sharpness of what is said, another is the smoothness of what is not being said - I am not sure I have the skill to extend the poem well (thank you for having the confidence that I could). Anyway, if I ever do, I shall certainly repost it here.

Thanks also to everyone who has clicked 'Like' for this poem ?

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Adam Whitworth

Sun 25th Apr 2021 11:01

It feels as if the first four lines here are the start of a much longer poem and an excellent poem I believe it will be.

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