behind eyes all sharp myriads
Herr Bibliothekarius
ciphery & unashamèd
tells himself
he is
an insect poet
ciphery & unashamèd
hidden dainty from storm
his story's axe men
ciphery & unashamèd
overstay their welcome
his tale's rose,
antique and
festival-drowsy,
is everywhere
ciphery & unashamèd
tho no mask for his cries
ciphery & unashamèd:
"the axe men they're my above in name
and wearing shapes I paused when
still resistless newborns, yet the unimagined
is scanty and is of seraphs dry"
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