I kayak down your black swirling creases
Polish your tiny orange pimples
I sleep with you at night, hold you close
Dream of Hal Greer making jump shot free throws
Wilt Chamberlain doing the finger roll
I inflate you by hand, your air pressure just right
Bouncing true: not too high, not too low
I twirl you on my index finger like a Globetrotter
Speak to with reverence, a spherical sun
Spalding, Wilson, Goaliath basketball hoops
Wrinkle thy cords, swoosh swoosh in the cool moonlight
With my eyes closed, based purely on intuition
I release you from my grip, behind the three point line.
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