Obeyed nature. The Maker’s paternal force
The source of all this unstasis.
Divorced of social mores and enforced modalities
Her gorse love I am forced to grasp ungloved
I cannot catch the moray eel with my bare hands
But that is what they demand of me, the laughers on the banks.
The weight I daily lug breaks me
The books I thought became me merely remade me vaguely
In some other enveigler’s shape
Retrospect’s clarity proves my chain’s charity, it made me.
Alchemisland 
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