All that matters
anymore
is the unicorn of
clear thinkingstill uncaught and still
completely misunderstood
so wash your hands
before you come to
the table of poetry
your virgin lap
must bear the vision
of those blue eyes
while the tip of its horn
enters your heart
at least imaginatively
which sounds harsh
I know but really
it’s nothing more
than a little blood
from your finger
such silence awaits.
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