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Consecration

My friends are stars to me in the burning bright way, not the remote and distant way

My adversaries are lords. Those bitches are feudal

Some people are serfs but are ploughing in the fields of love, which is more honorable than being any lord

Lover, it is your shoulders that I stand on. It is you that tried to teach me what not-fear was

Summer is the time that glimmers and we tell limericks in the shade

When I walk alone the beloved is grandiosity itself

Dry your soles on the mat and come to me. It’s dumping so hard out there

What you don’t do you will never do

I’m comforting this dying dog in my lap. The suburbs are a place to dream

Summer is the time to play games