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Shroud Of Tonsure

Rare the mystics of my soul, visit me in scarcity
of my restless spirit, padlocked as I scribe  
beneath the shroud of my tonsure  
and physical phenomena at dusk's twilight
wrestling the flesh of my medusa  
constricting my mind with tentacles
grasping the dawn of harum-scarum
slogging in the maze of my own labyrinth
nursing her sanctimonious teats.
adagio
Written by adagio
Published
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