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the engine.

the engine.

“the engine” Ottava Rima Style

salve the mixtures that muddle each of my breaths
age the winding middles terse fractional time
weaker than approximating empty debts
remarkable staunch seething a heart sublime
read mirror like absence indifferent deaths
behoove through the remedies opening rhyme
belief is a beauty thing tempering light
ingenuity engine through which i write.

(C)2011 Christopher Vaughn

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