Take and tie this thread
around your little finger
like a morning fog that lingers
when the sun transmutes it red.
This thread will be an empire,
towers rising to your soul's ceiling
until the fire of your pyre
transmutes all our feelings
to a vaster sea than thought
could ever comprehend. My name
is not important, but you ought
to know the stage of my fame.
From our blazing calcination
we'll effect a new transmutation.
[Yesterday's poem. I'll have to write today's poem tomorrow. :P]
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