blank rapture of divine rapport:
the word descends, pretends
to be inspiration, capture of sacred
breath, spirit inhaled,
pages impaled upon pens impregnating
trees with poetry, passing time with templates,
resemblance of life lifted to worship
through script.
blood fills drops like sips of wine,
like ink across these pages,
filling a crypt of trees,
words scripted
encrypted in semantic sentiment.
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