Not our Love to confute, nor Creator refute, nor by reason of a skeptic, or more septic, insistence, thine or mine
The Moorean fact is, we both live to but memoriously compute Love's Levenshtein distance as Divine
& for no Heart is, save by tongues' treason, its own Hamming, upper bound
God's teeth! Our proof of the Soul is damning sound.
Envoi-
Prince! Manichaeus explains what Machiavel explains away
Contra paganos, peregrinatur hic civitas Dei
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