---

I can’t think of a thing

And why should I

Waiting

That’s just how I fly

Cause I’ve slipped through

The hole in my heart

Variate hue

O subtle art

Standing

Amidst pillars of always and naught

Printing

That which the melding evening’s morning brought

Sing o yes sing out

Steel crisp

Blades of sonnet shout

Solemn mirthing wisp

Into the ether old

Glint like stars

In infinite mold

The divinest song of Mars

---

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