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Wrestling Poets. (FLGripper)

It must be the era of Language and Lit 
When both were taught in school 
Which gave both of us the yearning for it 
And made us two so cool

It sure would be great to meet up and fight 
And on friendly terms then, we'd leave, 
With hopes of another, a friendship of might, 
And memories to share and cleave.

Alas, with the distance, it doesn't look great 
The border, a hindrance, for sure, 
But bodily contact, a loving to 'hate' 
Is really the only true cure.

For yearnings experienced all of the time 
When scantly clad bodies entwine, 
When pinning opponents, upon them do climb 
To make YOUR body MINE.

Then as we get closer, in body, as friend, 
More comfortable we'd feel 
The bout which we started would come to an end 
Who'd win? - the jobber or heel?.

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