a bumbling muffled, laugh-lined accounting on long green sheets,
the abacus sliders of hideous obsidian drooling infants, wide eyed and crusty, awakening with silvered nickel pens, mirrored to a fine-tipped finish.
but who rights whom with self eruptions as if ants bursting from small mountains?
whispered listeners like a lions ear, our drums full of pride?
or, genetic symbols, like a crown of unrelinquished ego?
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