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Long may this uncut skein of silken gold
Wax long and lush and line the winding way
That leads the wanderer on a night of cold
Or sultry evening, or some lazy day

Or any other time a sudden whim
Should lead a tender hand to wander skin
(Found or placed in state of some undress)
In bliss to southern points of interest.

No razor's scrape, nor wax, nor epilation
Shall leave sad pimpled deserts of shorn skin
Which cactus-like from stubble vilely sin
And flay the author of their titillation

But soft and luscious growth shall greet
Me and my own when next we meet.

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