I hear my spirit,
the out of nothing
vestments through the blood in vain.
I float between the
secret, cursed trove somewhere
bound in me;
it is your mind.
Lamenting, in your mirror image,
a sorrowful brew, vintage wine
quench thirst from saltiness lips.
I silenced before the
beauty speech with many tongues
mere stone;
abodes it is your heart
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