In between my legs

My eyelids are heavy, sticking

     every time they close for an era.

My two legs lay dilapidated like

     a winded tool shed.

My hands work as stints to prevent

     my marble head from shattering

              on the floor.

And my bladder sits swollen between

     my legs, waiting for a chance to

          relieve me.

Upon tender dreams clouding my mind

     latently floating in sweet visions

     and runs in between my legs.

What do you think? Criticisms and praise welcome.

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