POET

Aye as poet of thine hearts
We see by light here thus I love thee; whence then in this mist here I, as taken, I to roads [sic] where, there forsaken, whence thence that I, I, westward taken as it was for then it was that I, I, whom were as curtained there and in the as it were of whence t’was I must swing the chines. Thus; reaping I as sewn to thence in hereby I be there… to scythe as I in time, and thus that in me here, while in the stithy mine, do I then forsee deeds of mind as mine that glimmer brimstone thence through flux to hone the chines, that honed thus here by yet other than pletheral of brines.


And that the woman on my bearing; by her I the groom, through shimmer mist our faring roving trusting looming walk the map that woven will be; at vesper, matin, times where our noctune clutched; here I to be met and led through gallilean flux, yet here and waiting, here and seated, reading, writing, thus; looms a medicine unto a cloth; the tapestry map such.

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