Pursuing what only patient minds discern
My burning astuteness undeserved
A lotto winning murderer or something worse.
Finding some grinding delight in what blinds the next
Bind thyself to the promise of thy broken legs. The sect
The insect sex
Her hinted neck
With all the subtlety of the hope diamond.
I beg Cybele of the unhealing
Wounds to woo her chameleon
Moods.
My moon-bartered gifts
Which lift above mere risibility the efforts of my wrist.
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