That it is only the Sun's light, not warmth, our eyelids block
& it is only Logos' Grace we efface when we talk
Krishna's Teinm Laegda is, for Kama, an Uttanka cloud
Naught quails Sinn's heat- were Mercy allowed.
Envoi-
Prince! Notwithstanding sand in your vagina or claims of cystisis
Fuck T.S Eliot's bird-brained Ranchodrai Agonistes.
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