• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 06
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                               Grandeur-maker, conjuror of worlds.
                       Leaf-veins flood to Amazons under your burn;
               ant-legs thicken to spine-shocking monstrosity; a child’s
              palm turns scorched, strange desert expanse. Circle-magic!
        Light-bending explosions of the wild invisible: eye-glue, mesmeric;
            your wise, blossoming face lends me God’s own eyes. Kapow!
                To miss even a sliver-moment of this springing, popping
                         bomb-blast would be a sin. I hear breathing
                                  at my right shoulder. Just behind.
                                              Deep. A chuckle.
                                                        But I