e. e. buffings

O sweet spontaeous
Spike how often have
the
doting

fingers of seething slayers slashed
and
stabbed
thee
,has the naughty thumb
of science chipped
thy
ferocity .how
often have watchers taken
thee on with musty books
battling and

buffeting thee that thou mighest become
dust
(but
true

to the incomprable couch of death thy
rhythmic
demon
thou answerest

them only with
fangs)

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