…spiLL sLoW PoT iONs..

my room is in thoughtful disarray

my game is on the scatters, mid-air

I tilt fluid crystal throttle at the helm of the flintrock

no tricks involved, relatively whispering

Let us look at these shards about, of the fortress I held in winter

with lunacy, short reach and tall sheets, pounce of the springtime soon retreat the novice builders ‘O fort of couch cushions crew go giddily

return in a frenzy to feast with better thieves.

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