I must insist on the story itself
its inherent originality
and literary value its
touching verisimilitude
as proof of authorship
by some intelligence or nous
arranged in layers ply
on ply of metaphors
until the question itself
becomes a religion
but the point is not religion
it’s about the metaphors
one thing being carried across
and laid into another thing
the non-material world
populated with its own
calm and isolate beings
three candles gold
and green and blue
set before a throne
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