Another stab at wacky free form. Adapted from Angel Beast. #nightdweller
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I opened my sacred book
again at days end, and saw smiling grimace against daily imperfections.
Why are these wings of mine bound by so many angry punctuation marks,
like fire ant brigade marching from dawn to dusk?
This spine of mine is made creased by too many nocturnal inquiries, and
shadows hide splendor
They do not forgive
the mammal beast that swivels from east to west, west to east in endless yearning.
Why do I hunch studious over this book, drinking nightshade tea, when incandescent light does nothing
to make miscible the angel beast?
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