in perfect plant
supposed the wild
in suffused perception...
the soya of cover
will creep to corrupt.
Watered and mowed
in the cuddy moors
of shared misfit,
a coming together of
misconstraint...
the smelling is sweet
in the laughter of youth.
A stab at the gist
of a disciplined disciple
who knows the share
of divining light...
at the base of a pentacle.
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