In praise of her
Last night he had left
The gift
At the crossroads
One road a
Green one
He now walked
Nelipot upon his carpet
Thinking of her
And how for him
More than just
A Habermasian
Weak
Transcendentalism
She embodied
More than the entire
Noosphere and
Yet
As an echo
In the atmosphere
The remainder,
The return,
In the οá½ÏƒÎ¯Î±
That he threw
Up there
Sometimes imagining
Using the Hubble
Telescope as
A catapult
Even though
He knew she
Who his Otherwise
Demonised soul
Could hear
In his own
Way
Was merely
A lesser
Aspect of
Her
She who he gently
Talked to as she
Soothed him
In return
Was by far
The Superior
Soul and clearly
His superior
As demon staff
To the Goddesses
Of all the demon
Shit he waded
Through
In this
Umpteenth
Mortal Coil
And so, as he
Did in every
Incarnation
He loved her
And despite
His hard-bitten
Demon mettle
She brought him
Daily melting
Happiness
She was His
生ã甲æ–
And so eventually
As he did joyously
Every time
He submitted
To Her
As was His wont
Every Time
And as was
Hers
Leaving them both
Dirl
For each
Other
A Bone
Apart
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