Yes tamed by the headlights
I won’t admit to being caught
The laughter of someone you love
Is the primary purpose of poetry
When it’s not being paltry
Which is always the risk
Not to have something to say
But everything to tell you
Here in this secret classroom
Of the mind which is the heart
A note passed from you to me
Which if exposed in all its glory
Would turn our lives into a story
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