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The Bland Quality of Parlor Sweets
I move
 in slow motion,
 for I have fallen into
 molasses.
 I fell with the ginger
 snap
 crumbs, as they were
 scraped from your favorite 
 china plate.
 You threw the crumbs
 away, but you
 did not know
 that I was on the plate too,
 curled up and sleeping 
 on a painted tea rose.
 So I fell too,
 scraped away 
 by the butter knife
 and now I am 
 stuck in a tub
 of molasses.
 What I can't
 understand,
 is how you did not 
 see me.
 You saw the crumbs
 of the ginger snaps.
 At least you know
 where they are-
 even if it is
 the garbage bin.
 But you've lost me,
 and cannot find me,
 and I cannot get 
 free
 to show you
 that I am still here.

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