Still cringe at the sound
Inducing winces your shrill rebounds
Nothing done or said that day redounds to my credit
But in the end it all comes back around
You’re only seeing this through my sentences
Through much self editing
Through my famously impenetrable edifice
But this time you might just be ahead of it
The trail and obvious way
Or the betraying flames who, if obeyed, would see you let off it
Led astray, bound somewhere awful
No lead coffin, no twice three space
No stone-supported spade
Left where she lay.
Alchemisland 
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