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Two Last Lines

Two last lines of interchangeable spheres
The untuned song I no longer know
In a pattern I got from the Universe
That knows about spheres more than I do
That had been dreaming long before I became real

Ordid I?
Orchid, eye

For so long I haven’t made sense
I think I’m someone’s dream as miswritten
As the ones I script
When I decide to fit tex t books
Sesquipedal words to titles that I find beautiful
Inferno’s in the Bible, just for imagery
Because if there’s the bad, the good is allusive

Oris it?

I was maid of honour to the marriage of heaven and hell
But the best man is someone I can call worst — gone
For good – But if the script is mine
And only the pattern is from—
I’m the bride, I’ve been heaven in hell
All along