Plentiful There

 

 

The emotions

But are—

The antagonists—

 

Evening fell—and 

Inflamed him—

 

Undid then— 

Consumed him

 

Respecting the spring— 

With them

Taking a pitcher—

 

The sentinels— 

Frenzied

With thirst—

 

 

 

Surnamed the Hater

 

 

For what we had—

We shunned—

A wicked man—

 

And with so little

Contact—

We did not

Believe him—

 

The thing in

Itself was a—

Green bright dark bitter

 

And I have been 

Stripped upon

Entry—we are never on

Expedition—at all—

Nor is this an

Unraveling passage—

 

I think—

At the table

We are—

Far too philosophical

 

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