Wisdom of the Unwise

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Taken back to his place.
Not a name to be said,
Not a word in her head.
Not a song,
Nor a worry,
Only the fun and the laughs.
An art of desire,
The grace of avarice.
There they dance,
A pile of parchment,
A flurry of hunger
Fulfilled
By the skin and the knots.
Behold the bonfire.
Watch it burn without fuel.





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