There’s a fifth elemental bottled up inside, and I’ve found myself in biomimicry light as the airs lamenting that this too too earthy flesh, no platonic object, of fiery desires, could atomize and rise to watery dote, where true hearts float and all honesty lies with a fine print of boasted bullet-points and side-splitting effect:
The meaty much we do means little mixed in the cosmic stew
Arms are best for putting round, but when putting right’s left out, it’s better to put down
What cleans a surface, even tears, can also stain, given enough time
Take the cleansing solution, and wipe them down to their gleaming steel
Then weld the twelve couple-less, cautionary signs to fashion a finer form
I could pack infinity into that very finite dodecahedron, with this one simple observation:
The glow reflected on your face is the most beautiful my light has ever been.
[The italicized stanzas should be bullet-pointed, but that's not a formatting option here]
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