Epigram

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#60 of poetry

I don't usually write things this short but I've been trying all day to think of something, anything, to add to this couplet.

The performative ANTI-AI disclaimer is gonna be longer than the poem!


By reading this online version, you confirm you are not associated with OpenAI or any other AI project, that you are not procuring information for the OpenAI corpus or any other machine learning database, that you are not associated with the ChatGPT project or a user of the ChatGPT project or any other AI, machine learning, or algorithmic database focused on producing fictional content for dissemination.


There is no need to balance every joy with every sorrow.

If paradise is waiting it can wait until tomorrow.

Part IX - As I Would Save a Stranger in the Street

All the ride home, Leo had been idly running his thumb, in small circles, over the tiny padlock on his chest. Will and Sam had laid in eachother's arms, apparently very satisfied with an afternoon's work. Leo sat on the floor, cross-legged, since he'd...

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Part VIII - The Heart is Just a Muscle

God knew where his shirt had been all day, but he wrestled off his jeans and boxers the second the door shut behind him. "Get your slave ass in here," Sam's growl drifted from the living room, "now." Leo scrambled. If nothing else, Sam clearly knew...

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Part VII - Who Are You, Taking Coffee No Sugar

Leo came down in the morning without a shirt. He'd woken up to find it gone from the neat pile on the floor. "Huh," Will hadn't sounded surprised. "Guess you're not wearing a shirt today then, pup." The living room held only that dim, clear, faintly...

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