we must freedom our selves with our artlings
we must away-from the 'oar domes and the scarrings
up and avast
theirs is western in our spaghetti
theirs is healer songstarling in our awakeningificationarying
we must moisten our cores with the herbal ginger, wryly glistening
and we must awe ourselves with the non listening
how came we to be holstered and upholstered by the fearmunchers?
within they settle like sooners on the hoary plains
and within a blossom's frail 'twixt glass lifeplate
like a scraping unto the biologist's thickset pyrex paddles
we knew the wholeness of going way beyong all rage
unto a turmoil-lacking fulsome core-resurrection sashay,yea
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