Friday, July 24, 2020

The Other Last Thing Valentine

That the spirit would have no obstacles
They chose the purest girls
To sit above the noxious fumes
So the god's voice could come through
Crackly like on an old radio
While we scribes quickly wrote down
Those words immediately passed on
To the highest interpretive authorities
But today everyone's a prophet
Of their own opinions and rewards
Seduced by their own perfume
No one to reveal the future
So it can be decoded
And the past avoided

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