I don't know where it comes from.
At the Gate of Babalon,
one node in a rhizome of
conduits, the dominant,
The street where I live.
the Prism, I saw you. At
the well. You did not meet
My Eye. What seer are you?
Mercury morn, a little gift,
invoking communication.
Do not look for honesty,
because the most dangerous
Believe. And those are Stars
that are Her eyes.
Perhaps someone will get in touch.
Materials may matter.
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