A butterfly, my guide
glided away the false emperor’s hide
walls have ears
decals of wells
insulating material
decked out with spells
a well-kept garden under the untidy spears
real
cannot understand the den
and to tell the truth neither I can
so merely coincidentally a man
as sacred as profane
and the indistinct between
the physical plane
and the “ Open Simsim ! ”.
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