It’s not fair, she declares, that I am so put upon
Long hard stare she waited there to see what I’d summon
Not much; tis true, I’m shy as if born new
Tosses purse toward my shoe, spins, spits ‘I’m done with you.’
Neuralchemy, summoning lost worlds, astral womb knowledge
It’s not fair, she declares, that I am so put upon
Long hard stare she waited there to see what I’d summon
Not much; tis true, I’m shy as if born new
Tosses purse toward my shoe, spins, spits ‘I’m done with you.’
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