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If a true plea had wings so innocent and fair,
through which place or time would mine have to
sour to show that penance is the threshold,
desire, the door, which needs be unbolted to liberate
my stall of lashes, wrinkles, blood and gore. For I've
waded in the depths of evil's shore and have delved into
the caves of leviathans galore
who dented my flesh,
halved my soul and
residued the rest
of me
on the deep sea floor.