Suit and scry

Borrowing tomorrow from hollows between sieved leaves

Using my ink-ridden finger to stir them into more auspicious teases

The inkribbon freezes mid sentence

A frieze capturing me felt more like a harsh sentence

House a midden, grouse flock its mouse-pissed entrance

Hidden but emerges if bidden

The gentleman from the verdure was well turned out, and I kissed him.

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