you're a rich text
you
at the end of the year
it's my clumsy cup
you're filling with pawns
it's pawns overflowing
all lyre and leavening
now porous pawns
all pawns with new rules
you golden translator
your infinite thoughts
here image and lore
internal complexity
yes
your mirror is like
when garlic cooked perfect
is golden,
sweet, and
gold and i'm clumsy
which is like to say
that garlic for you
could rhyme with a cake
and golden
you
your chamomile teacup
no steam without eir
its liquid surface
lens of my eye
which scratch hair ripple
each pair is the augur
itself and the process
above and below
and then what we leaves
together
together
for the end of the season