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Rated: E · Poetry · Mystery · #2274158
Very first, there in verse, briefly separated, the Caller provides your guidance.
Matutirnal Salivations,
Slow Sleuther Spy!
Mirrorbations Inn?


"We start our dance with
our first left pace,
but with each step,
we choose our rhyme.
If there is only one dancer
in a space,

we combine."


"This is not the custom,
no not anywhere else,
it is the secret dance.
Not danced again ,
when it has been twice."

I am the loudest shadow,
I am of no mind;
they are not dancers,
and the music is mine.

They pass remaining
invisible to each other.
Self-haunted ghosts.
I wonder if they have the time?

Look, they've accomplished
the empty cup!
They found Fool's Gold!
And blunted knife!

They could slay with it
the whole wide world,
if they knew there were
others outside.

And they would call this once-honey vinegar,
what it is known as untended wine.

Courted crocodile, most sincere,
knows to save his skin.
My oh my!
Do not empty coffers seek filling here?

And they claim their poverty is their sin!

If so, it is a wonder the world is not
more rich in laughter.
I confess, I am not contrite.

And they claim their poverty is their sin!

If magnitude were a measure of man?
Well, then, they might be right.
No dinner ,and a sad show anyway.
(No wonder we almost danced all night.)

Let there be no misgivings there,
hearts may be heavy,
but feet are light.
None of that Fool's Gold in the pocket,
the relentlessly tested heart always tries.

It hears the music,
"Hey! That is mine!"

I love you so much I will play it-

Infinitely timed.

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