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The Dancer
As I slipped George's folded face
Under the garter on her thigh,
I turned mine away surprised to find
That I was country-boy shy
I watched her in the mirror
Through smoke-filled air
Unable to touch her hardened skin
With my direct stare
As if
Under the weight of
One more pair of eyes
She might realize
Her nakedness
And reflected on that Dancers face
I saw all of the sorrow
That men displace
