Hilarion Sanctity


Luminous octave,
unscathed embryo of
Valencia turquoise,
Scores lush tenor exchange
That, to the numb,
Would collide into margins of
Elysian silk.

The pistol wield,
of our Clorox masters
calcareous centers,
Coaches their forge for stealing
What would unlock us.

What casts do serfs worship
for such these vacant jewels
They fail to know exist?

A fragrant illustrate to be alive,
All these colors,
I wish I could live, a thousand lives,
I wish I could be, a thousand times.

A toast to our immaculate seminal vessels,
Tonight, let us marinade in deistic rhythm.

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